A McLaina Story
by Sakura Martinez
Summary: Lauren has a dream-to be the next American Idol. It was her time to shine. Little does she know what awaits her in this chapter of her life. Sometimes, fate has a way of giving us something more than we dreamt of, all we have to do is believe. McLaina.
1. Prologue

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

I wasn't really planning on writing this. Not really. But, I figured it would be a good way to pass time. Not only that but I do love this couple. Like every other McLaina fan out there, I also think that they have chemistry together. Of course, I have to say that I find it hard to write about real people...that's why I decided to go and write this as a bit of an AU. Sure we still have Lauren and Scotty and the rest of the Season 10 people-including the judges, but this story is laced with fiction. What I meant to say is that, although this is based on real life and what really happened, I also added a bit of things that didn't happen, or things that I don't know if it actually happened.

Having said that, I don't know what happens behind the Idol Mansion, the actual auditions or anything. I'm not betting that what I have written is 100 percent accurate. This is a fan fiction. But, if there are any inaccuracy, please tell me. If I wrote something that's wrong, any information that I might have forgotten-please tell me and I'll fix it. I don't have a Beta Reader but I think I may need one for this. So, if you're interested and you're as much of a McLaina fan as I am, then I welcome your help (just PM me and let me know).

This fanfic would, probably, be updated on a weekly basis...unless something comes up that would make me update it sooner, or later.

Well, that's that.

Hope you guys enjoy reading this fanfic.

**End of Author's Notes**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

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><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Prologue**

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><p>Singing is my passion. My life.<p>

Even as a kid, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was so sure of myself of that. While most children dreamt of becoming a princess and super models, doctors and engineers, teachers, pilots, and astronauts...my dream was pretty much high up there. I dreamt of being a singer. An artist.

I knew-I felt it in my bones-that I was born to sing and I knew that I _can_ sing.

I've watched the rise of stars on American Idol. From Kelly to Rueben; From Rueben to Fantasia; From Fantasia to my idol, Carrie; From Carrie to Taylor; From Taylor to Jordin; From Jordin to David Cook, Kris, and Lee. I've waited patiently for my turn. For that day when I'm finally old enough to audition. For my own star to shine. And, finally, that time has come.

I closed my eyes and envisioned myself standing in front of the judges. I've always seen myself there, singing my best in front of Randy, Paula, and Simon. But now the judges are different. I had to adjust it. Change Paula to Jennifer Lopez and Simon to Steven Tyler. It's not that hard to do. I always imagined that moment and try to make it as clear as possible. Call it a ritual to calm me for the actual thing.

They ask me how I'm doing, and ask me what my name is.

I tell them my name and tell them that I'm doing great, even though I'm feeling all sorts of emotion-excitement, fear, hope, anxiousness-that it was a miracle my imaginary-self haven't thrown up yet.

Then they ask me to sing, and I sing.

I imagine myself singing like there's no tomorrow. Belting it out like everything depends on it-which is true, everything does depend on it: my future, my dreams, my hopes...everything. And I imagine the judges' smiles, their awe when they hear me sing. Hey, if I'm going to imagine it, might as well go to the extreme. It is my imagination, after all.

And then, they'll say "Yes" and I'll get my hands on that elusive and highly sought after _Golden Ticket _and-

"Lala, hurry up!" I hear my brother, Tyler, shouting from the other side of the bathroom door, pounding on it. The exasperation oozing from the tone of his voice. "You're not the only one who needs to get ready, you know."

Typical, Tyler. Always wants to rush things. Of course, I can't blame him. We've travelled all the way from Roseville to Nashville and booked a hotel just so I won't be late for the auditions in the Ryman Auditorium. I know a lot of people would be auditioning, and so did my mom and dad, that's why they opted to just stay a hotel while the auditions are going on instead of going back and forth. As it so happens, my mom and dad got a room for themselves and I got stuck with my brother, Tyler. My brother and I are close, but I do hate it when he rushes me when I'm using the bathroom.

"Come on, Lala!" He pounds the door again. "With how much time you're taking in there, I won't be surprised if Holly's already there!"

"Chill out, Tyler!" I called back as I looked at myself in the mirror one more time. One of the things I've learned from watching the show ever since it began is that you must never, under any circumstances, dress way over the top or wear anything skimpy...the judges usually don't take those people seriously. That's why I decided to go with a colorful zebra dress, a black pair of leggings and boots to cap the whole outfit. "Holly's not there yet. I texted her before."

Holly Witherow. She was the one who really made me try out today. She's my cousin, although everyone says we're more like sisters than cousins...even I like to think so. We like to do stuff together, like BFFs. She knows most-if not all-of my secrets and I know hers, and she's always there when I need her. I try to be there when she needs me too. Whenever we're together, you can bet that we are having fun. We're just that close.

But, it's not always fun and games with us. It's hasn't always been easy.

Three years ago Holly was diagnosed with a brain tumor, she needed to undergo chemo and radiation therapy and it was uncertain if she would survive. I was as devastated as everyone, maybe even more devastated than the rest of the family. Holly wasn't just my cousin, my sister, and my best friend. She was also my mentor, my idol-someone I've always looked up to. I knew that I couldn't just _not _do anything, and so I did what I could. I held a fundraiser for Holly, using the talent that God had given me, and saved all I could to help with medical expenses.

Holly, thank God, survived and she urged me to audition for American Idol...not that I needed much urging. Like I've said, I've always dreamt of singing on Idol.

I sighed, looking at my reflection again. This was all I could do. There were so many rules for the audition of American Idol. One of them was the dress code-we weren't allowed to style ourselves with signature outfits. Not that I would do that on my first audition-an audition that the whole of America-no, the whole world-will be able to watch. Well, if I make it through or if I make a total fool of myself.

No. I won't make a fool of myself.

I took one last look at the mirror before I twisted the doorknob and opened the door just in time to stop Tyler from attacking it...again.

"Finally!" He said as he pushed me out of the bathroom and locked himself in. "What is up with girls and bathrooms! Ugh!"

I laughed, not really bothering with the fact that my older brother just _pushed_ me out of the bathroom and almost rumpled my outfit. I turned and walked back to the sofa wondering how long it would be before we head on over to the auditorium, how long before Holly gets here, how long before I audition.

I may not admit it out loud but I am nervous. Ever since I was six-years-old, this has been what I wanted to do. To audition in American Idol, get myself a Golden Ticket to Hollywood, and then to the live shows, and-hopefully-become the next American Idol. It may be a long-shot, but it's a shot worth taking.

Taking my iPod out of my bag, I put the earphones on and listened to the song that would be my audition piece.

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><p>"Wow, honey, look at all these people." My mom, Kristy, breathed out as we stood in line, waiting for them to let us in the auditorium.<p>

"Yeah..." I couldn't helped gawking. Sure there have been several occasions-events-that I have been a part of where a lot of people were in one place at the same time but...none of them were like this. I can't explain it but...there's something different in the air-excitement? Maybe.

I took a look around as we walked towards the long-really, _really_, long-line of people, waiting to get their numbers. I couldn't help but wonder how many people were there. Five thousand? Ten? Fifteen? I don't know but it feels like everyone from Nashville and its surrounding cities were there.

_And these people-most of them-are my competitors...my rivals. They're hoping to get their dreams to become reality._

I didn't know I've been lost in thought for so long until Tyler put his arms around my shoulder and moved me forward.

"Geez, Lala, don't let your mind go wandering like that. At least wait until we're seated." He chuckled as he guided me forward.

"I wasn't daydreaming." I argued. "I was just-" Just what? I can't go and tell him that I was feeling scared because once I let that out, I would really be feeling it-the pressure, the anxiety-and that would not be good. So, instead of telling Tyler what was really on my mind, I mentally shook my head and instead said, "I was just thinking about how many are trying out for this year's show."

"They're auditioning in full-force now since Simon's not in the judging panel. God knows how many people don't want him to tell them how much they suck...in national television." Tyler shrugged.

My mom has a different theory, though. "I don't think that's the only reason. If you look at it, there are a lot of fifteen-year-olds, like you, Lauren."

Yeah. I did notice that. "I guess we all have the same idea and we all can't wait for another year to audition."

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until next year, Lala?" My dad, J.J, asked me.

I looked at him, one of my eyebrows raised.

"Dad, do you have to ask that question?" Tyler laughed. "You can't stop Lala from auditioning this year even if you tied her up, locked her in the cellar, threw away the keys, and poured cement on all the exits. She's going to hitchhike her way if she has to...that's if Holly doesn't help her out, and you know that she would help her out. Right, Lala?"

"I'm not _that_ excited, Tyler." I rolled my eyes. Only that, they knew that we-Holly and me-would probably do that. Then to dad, I said, "Dad, you know I can't wait for next year. It's like what you've told me: if it's something I want, if it's something you dream about, you should pursue it."

"Touché." My dad said, smiling. Then he asked, "Speaking of Holly, where is she?"

"She's with Kim." my mom replied. Kim's the name of my Aunt, who also happens to be my mom's sister. "They're already inside."

Tyler looked at me and mouthed 'I told you so'. I shrugged. It was good that Holly was already inside, I didn't want her to strain herself. I'm sure she's just as nervous about all this as I am.

_This isn't just for my dream...It's for Holly, too._

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><p>"Hi, there." The woman by the reception table said as she handed me the audition form. "Please fill this up."<p>

I took the form and thanked her before grabbing a pen and sitting on one of the stools there. It was quite a long and detailed form asking us all these things that you'd never thought they would have asked to know about us. Stuff like favorite stuff-ranging from food, music, movies, to things that make you unique and/or quirky, to things regarding your family and upbringing. They have that large section asking us to tell them a bit about ourselves, family background, school, love life, and stuff like that.

I stared at the form. The tip of the ballpoint pen hovering on the small boxes where they were asking us to fill in our names.

I took a deep breath before I wrote the name that people will, hopefully, know me by: Lauren Alaina.

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><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

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><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

Ugh...I don't like how the FFN's editor messes up my document's format...now it looks weird here. I'm annoyed...!

Anyways...

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	2. The Quest for the Golden Ticket

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

I wasn't really planning on updating any time soon but...since it's Friday, I have a lot of free time going on and so I decided to invest that on writing this chapter and trying to make it as accurate as possible. I'm not sure if I got it all right, I'm just writing this based on memory so...please just correct me if I got any of them wrong.

Like I've said before, I don't know what goes on behind the scenes, so those stuff-yeah, they're the fictional-part. Also, you're going to meet one of the OCs I have in this fanfic. I'm not going to say anything more than that. Just read on and...

Hope you guys enjoy reading this fanfic.

**End of Author's Notes**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I _still_ don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

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><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter One**

**The Quest for the Golden Ticket**

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><p>It was cramped and noisy inside the auditorium. It was like there was some sort of concert. The cacophony of noise reverberated through the whole room as we waited for the auditions to start. You can feel the excitement and the nervousness in the air and you can see all sorts of people doing warm-up exercises for their voice, talking, and doing meditation and stuff. There are even those people who are eyeing other people, maybe gauging just how good the competition would be. I wasn't doing that, though. I was genuinely mesmerized by the sea of people...and the strangeness that some of them bring.<p>

Take this one girl for example. She's wearing the same zebra dress as me (with a different pattern and color, mind you) and she has with her a hula-hoop. I guess she has that to take the stress of the auditions away and to pass time. I wish I had brought more than just my iPod which is, sadly, running out of battery.

Then there was this guy I passed by on my way to my seat who was wearing nothing but a blue body suit that covered his face completely. I tried my best to stop myself from gawking at him.

There are a lot more odd outfits that I saw while I waited with my mom and Holly. Dad and Tyler decided to go and buy us some drinks...and food, they figured that this was going to be a _looong_day_._ I guess people just want to do something-or wear something-that would make them stand out. I just hope that my voice is enough to do just that.

"Stop worrying too much, Lala." Holly nudged me, snapping me out of my reverie.

"I'm not worried." I said. It was like that had been my mantra ever since we got here.

"You have that look on your face that says otherwise." She pointed out.

"What look?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"That scrunched-up-watery-eyed look you have when you're worried." It was my mom who answered.

"I _don't_have that look." was my defense, which earned me a snort from both my mom and my cousin. Seriously. What look are they talking about? Sure, I _am_ nervous but I don't think I'm that easy to read...am I?

"Just relax and have fun in this audition." Holly gave me a sage-like advice. "You're really good, Lala. You're going to get that Golden Ticket."

"I hope so." I sighed.

I was about to add something to that when a woman stepped into the middle of the auditorium where there were a dozen tables with three chairs on them. I couldn't see what the woman looked like since we were so far away, but she looked like a middle-aged woman. She was wearing an American Idol white shirt with the words "Official" on the back, a pair of denim jeans, sneakers, and her hair-which was blond-was tied in a ponytail.

"Alright, Nashville Auditioners. May I have your attention, please?" Came the woman's voice as she spoke to the microphone on her hand. "We're going to start the first round of auditions. Please fall in line according to your number and follow the signs. Prepare your audition piece and good luck to all of you."

I was shocked. I was expecting Ryan Seacrest to open up the auditions, just like how they do it on TV. What's more, the lady said that this was the first round of the auditions. Does that mean that there would be a number of rounds before the audition ends? Before we either get our Golden Ticket or not?

"Huh, I guess they don't really show us how the auditions really are on TV." Holly took the words right out of my mouth.

"Go on down there, honey." My mom told steered me forward as the rest of the 'Auditioners' (as the lady puts it) began to head down. "We're going to wait for you here."

I gulped and balled my fist. Even though I am confident of my talent, one can never really know. I mean, I've watched the show since I was six-years-old and I've seen people who are talented enough to go through to the Hollywood round _not_ go through.

"You can do it." Holly whispered as she hugged me.

I let out the breath that I didn't know I was holding, unclenched my fist, and hugged her back.

"Thank you." I whispered before I broke the hug and took a step back.

I looked at my mom and Holly and gave them a faint smile before I turned around and followed the mass of people towards the lines. As I walked, and get bumped by my fellow aspirants, all I could think about was: _I can do this_. _Lord let me have this._

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><p>"Number 5111, please step forward." A man, probably in his thirties or something, said as he looked at the clipboard he has with him.<p>

I took a step forward. Number 5111. My number.

"Lauren Alaina?" He said my name, as if he wasn't sure if I was indeed Number 5111.

"Yes." I had to clear my throat to speak.

The man nodded before he looked at the three people sitting behind the judges' panel for this round of audition.

No. It wasn't Randy, Jennifer, and Steven.

No. Ryan Seacrest wasn't around either.

The three people behind the desk didn't introduce themselves. They didn't even look friendly at all. The way they were scrutinizing me, well, it was like I was a transfer student on my first day at high school-which means that it wasn't pretty. All the negative thoughts I had came rushing back at me.

_What if I'm not good enough?_

_What if I choke on my lyrics?_

_What if I open my mouth to sing and no words come out?_

_What if-. _

_What if-._

"Number 5111, what are you going to sing for us today?" One of the people behind the desk-a woman with a short-cropped hair wearing the same American Idol Official outfit-asked.

_What if-. _

_What if-._

"I'm going to be singing Faith Hill's _'Like We Never Loved Before_'. I hope you all like it."

_Let's do this Lauren Alaina Suddeth_. _Let's sing._

And I did.

I sang.

I sang my audition piece like how I sang at the benefit concert for Holly...and I hoped that it would be enough to get through to the next round of this audition phase of the competition.

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><p>"Congratulations, Lala." Tyler hugged me the moment I was close enough for a hug after they saw me practically running towards them with a huge smile plastered on my face.<p>

"I knew you could do it, Lala." Holly smiled.

"Thanks." I smiled back.

"So, what now?" My dad asked as he scanned the crowd. I'm not really sure what he's looking for.

I broke the hug and looked at my parents, who were smiling at me.

I smiled back as I answered, "We're supposed to head further in. They've grouped us based on our numbers again and they're going to call us by group."

"And, what group are you in?" Mom asked.

"The last group of the day." I answered as I took a seat. "I'm the last one who's going to sing for today, based on how the first round of auditions went."

"So, now we wait?" Tyler asked, he sounded like he wanted to whine about it. One of the things that Tyler hates is waiting.

I nodded. "Now we wait."

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><p>"Okay, we're good to go." One of the cameramen said as he gave a thumbs-up to an auburn-haired woman by the name of Lissa. The camera man, whose name tag read "Harry" had his hair hidden behind a baseball cap. He smiled at me, and said, "Go get 'em."<p>

I guess they're being nice because I'm just a fifteen-year-old kid trying out on American Idol where most of those who would be competing would have some background in the music industry. It isn't a big secret that most of them are amateur singers and artist who already have, at some point in their lives, a record deal.

"Thanks." I returned the smile, trying hard not to fidget.

I have been ushered towards a room where they said they would conduct the interview for record-keeping. The room was a small one with the American Idol logo as a backdrop. Various cameras and lights were littered around a small spot just in front of the backdrop where they had me stand in. It was a drab room and there were, like, five people there-all from the American Idol production team-and, of course, there's my mom. Usually it was just the contestant, and the interviewer, and the cameramen, but, since I am a minor, my mom had to come in with me, too. Not that I minded. I actually feel better knowing that she's in there with me.

"Try to relax, dear." Lissa said. I guess I couldn't hide the fact that I was tense all that well. "Basically, what we want from you is to tell us something about yourself. I'm going to ask you some questions, alright?"

I nodded. "Okay."

Lissa nodded to Harry and to the other cameramen before she turned her attention back at me. "Okay, let's start with the basic questions. What's your name, how old are you, and where are you from."

Those questions were easy.

"My name is Lauren Alaina, I'm fifteen-years-old and I'm from Rossville, Georgia."

"What can you say about Rossville? Do you enjoy living there?"

"It's fun living in there because it's fun, and simple, and laid back. People there are nice and we treat each other like one, big family."

"How would you describe yourself? It says here that you do cheerleading. Are you one of the popular kids in school?"

"I would say I'm kind of a typical fifteen-year-old girl. I did do cheerleading at school. Popular? I don't think so...I mean, not in the clichéd cheerleaders-are-popular-people sort of thing. People know my name back at home because I like to sing on charity events...and stuff like that. I like to think that I'm just like every other fifteen-year-old out there."

"When did you started singing? Can you tell us a little bit about your background in singing?"

"I'm always singing. It's what I love to do and my family's super supportive, especially my cousin Holly, she's the reason why I started singing. She's like a sister to me more than a cousin 'cuz I was raised with her." As I was talking about Holly, I couldn't help my eyes from starting to water. I tried to keep it in as I went on, forcing myself to smile and make it seem like it wasn't bothering me, "I always looked up to Holly growing up 'cuz she's so beautiful and it was like my goal was to be like Holly. Just that. Be like Holly."

Lissa looked intently at me before she went on to ask the next question. I noticed that, unlike the previous times before she asked me a question, she didn't look at the clipboard on her lap. She just stared at me and then asked, "Are you alright? I noticed you got teary-eyed when you talked about your cousin."

"S-sorry." I tried not to choke the words out of my mouth. "I always get emotional when it comes to her."

"Why is that?" Lissa pressed on. I don't know why but her eyes looked as though she was intent on getting the scoop.

I bit my lip. I didn't want to tell them about it.

"Come on, Lauren. This is for your record in American Idol. Every other contestant who got through the first round of audition had to tell us things about themselves that they would rather keep bottled up inside." Lissa went on. Her voice had started to have that persuasive-push in them.

I looked at my mom as I spoke, "I don't know. It...It doesn't sound right that I would tell people about it. I mean, I should ask Holly first if it's okay..."

I guess my mom understood that. She excused herself. I'm sure she went out to ask Holly if it would be alright to tell America-since I was sure they would be using this footage if I get through to Hollywood-about her condition three years ago. The story-the news-that had shook my world. The news that had left me feeling so scared.

It took a while for my mom to come back to the room. While we were waiting, Lissa stood up to talk to one of the production people. I don't know who it was or what that person's-who, by the way was a man-name was but he looked like someone important. I couldn't hear what they were talking about-not that I was trying to hear, or to eavesdrop. No, I wasn't. But, I was afraid that it has something to do with my reluctance to share that story about Holly.

"You know, you're okay, Lauren Alaina." I was surprised when Harry suddenly spoke to me. I was so intent on looking at Lissa and that man that I didn't notice Harry had stepped away from the camera and had walked over to where I was standing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Was all I could think of saying. I know I can be such a blabbermouth when I want to but, there are times when words escape me-this one being one of those times in particular.

"I said, you're okay." Harry shrugged. He had turned his back from me and walked back to his camera, a lens cleaner in one of his hands. "Most people would jump to the opportunity to use whatever story they have in their life in hopes that it would help them when they get through Hollywood and to the Top 24. I'm sure you know that we're going to be using these footages when we present those who go through to America, right?"

"Yeah, I figured just as much. I don't think anyone would simply just think that this is for 'record's sake'." I said. "But, I can't really think bad about those people, you know. Those people who uses whatever life story they have...it's their story to tell. But mine...well, it doesn't just involve me. I'm not sure if my cousin would want me to let America know about those things. And...I don't want people to think that I'm taking advantage or something."

Harry cocked his head and grinned. "Like I've said, you're okay, Lauren Alaina."

I couldn't help myself grinning back at him. At that moment, my mom went back to the room with Holly.

"Holly." I greeted as I walked towards her. "Did my mom tell you?"

Holly nodded. "It's okay Lauren. It's our story. And, there's nothing bad in it. Besides, it shows how much you care about other people-not just yourself, and it shows how assertive you are."

"Are...are you sure, Holly? Because once it's out there, it's out there." I wanted to be sure. I wanted to know that I wasn't pressuring her.

"Yes, Lala." She smiled. And that smile was all I needed to know that she was sure, that I wasn't pressuring her, that I had her blessing.

"Thank you." I said as I hugged my cousin.

_I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry._ I kept repeating that over and over again as I watched Holly out of the room and Lissa returned to her chair.

"Are you ready to continue, Lauren?" She asked. She sounded bored.

"Yes." I had to clear my throat a couple of times before she heard my reply.

"So, what is that about the whole Holly thing?"

I looked at my mom. She nodded and smiled. I told Lissa what she wanted to know.

"Three years ago, Holly was diagnosed with a brain tumor and they told her she's going to have to take chemo and radiation and she would lose all of her hair." My voice trembled as I spoke. "Her hair was beautiful, you know. I was so scared. I didn't know whether or not she was going to live and I don't know what I'd do without Holly 'cuz she's my..."

_I don't want to cry._

_I don't want to._

"...she's my big sister and..."

But I couldn't help it. I remembered what it was like. I remembered the feeling of uncertainty that I was sure Holly was feeling. "I didn't want to lose Holly...and I felt helpless not knowing what to do, how I could help, how I could make things better for her...or how I could cope if God decided to take her away...in the end, I just did what I could and I stayed with her."

I tried to compose myself-I didn't want to ruin my makeup and I didn't want to look bad in front of the camera-as I went on to say, "It was during that I used what God has given me to help my cousin out. I did a fund raiser. I sang and all the money I got, I saved it for Holly. Her family needed the money, she needed it...and I'm glad that the people of Rossville decided to chip in. The fund raiser was a success and I like to think that it helped Holly and her family out."

I exhaled a shaky breath as I finished telling her that. I would have hoped that everyone was as teary-eyed as I was, but they weren't. They didn't seem to be inspired by the story-not that I was trying to inspire them, but I was hoping for _some_ emotion at least. But Lissa, and the other camera men and production people, didn't have any emotion to them. I tried to get a glimpse of Harry behind his camera, but I wasn't able to. Lissa had blocked my view of him.

"Thank you for sharing that with us, Lauren." Lissa said bussiness-like. She placed a hand on my shoulder and began to steer me to where my mom had been standing and watching us. "It was nice of you to share that story with us. Now, please head to the waiting area where the others are waiting. You're number will be called when it's your turn to audition in front of the judges."

I nodded and, before I know it, my mom and I were standing outside the room, in the hall.

"Well, I guess that's that." My mom said. She didn't sound too happy...but I'm guessing it wasn't me she wasn't happy with...well, I hope it isn't me. "I guess they've heard enough sappy and inspirational stories that another one seems like nothing to them."

I sighed. It wasn't me.

"Well, they've been here for a while and I'm the last person to audition for today. I'm sure they've heard a lot more inspirational stories than mine...besides, I was reluctant to tell them anything." I said as we walked down the hall towards the waiting area where Holly, my dad, and Tyler were waiting for us...along with the other people auditioning who haven't been called yet.

"Maybe." Was all my mom said.

Sometimes my mom's more affected than I am.

* * *

><p>"Oh, God...the wait is <em>killing<em> me!" Groaned Tyler.

It was already six in the evening-five hours since the interview happened. There were only a few people in the room now.

Over the course of the day, I have seen people walking out of that door crying-whether they made it through or not, cursing and saying how stupid the judges were, or screaming their heads off in excitement, happiness-feeling ecstatic that they made it through to Hollywood. Those of us who were waiting cheered for them and looked stunned when someone we thought was good (we get to hear most of them singing before the judges could) doesn't make it or when someone starts cussing.

But there was one thing we were all feeling: nervous.

"There's only four of us left, Tyler." I told my brother. "Patience."

"Patience? You've got to be kidding me." He huffed. "How much more patience do I have to show? We've been here _the whole day_. You would have thought they'd provide us with some sort of entertainment...or refreshments while we're waiting."

The girl that was auditioning came out of the room.

She looked heartbroken as Ryan Seacrest asked, "You didn't make it?"

"No." She replied sadly, and she went straight to her dad who hugged her and the two of them walked away.

"That's too bad." I hear Ryan say as he shook his head, then he turned to the next in line. "Next!"

Another girl, with dark, curly hair stood up and walked towards Ryan. The cameraman followed her as she walked.

"It's your turn. Go get 'em." Trust Ryan Seacrest to give words of encouragement.

The girl smiled before she marched off to meet destiny-well, destiny in the form of the Idol judges.

I started biting my lip when ten minutes later I was the only one left. Well, apart from my family and the Idol crew. The four people who went ahead of me didn't make it. None of them got the Golden Ticket. I wanted to feel confident but it looked as though the odds were not in my favor. I was the last for the day and I knew what a long day it must have been for the judges. What if they're already tired from hearing people sing? What if they wanted the day to end already and they make quick work out of me?

When the guy-a bald guy who went ahead of me-came out with no Golden Ticket. My nerves were so frayed that it was a miracle I wasn't literally shaking on my boots.

"Next!" Ryan called when he finished his shot with the guy.

Holly squeezed my hand before I stood up. Tyler stood up and patted me on the shoulder. My mom and dad both gave me a quick hug before telling me "Good luck."

I was on my own. From this point up to the moment when I leave the audition. I would have to face this on my own.

I walked towards Ryan Seacrest, who was smiling and who greeted me with a handshake.

"Are you ready for the auditon?" He asked.

"Oh, yeah. I know. I've been here all day." I laughed weakly as I answered. Feeling already breathless.

_I hope I don't pass out._

"I know, you're the last one." Ryan laughed along with me. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. "So, go in there and good luck. We'll be waiting for you."

I nodded, but before I stepped into the door, I faced him crossed my fingers and said, "Cross your fingers." I was thinking that maybe if Ryan Seacrest would do that with me, I may get a shot-I know, thinking back, it sounded stupid. But, hey, I was nervous!

"Fingers crossed." Ryan answered me back as he showed me both of his hands with his fingers crossed.

I grinned.

_Or maybe it's not so stupid after all._

* * *

><p>Every step I took felt heavy. The short distance that I had to walk to get to that little stage where they expect me to sing in front of the judges, felt like a mile-a <em>hundred<em>miles. I knew I had to act confident. I knew I had to show them that, just because I'm a kid, doesn't mean that I can't keep up with the pressure. I have to show them that I could and I had to show them that I wasn't scared...even though I was.

I took one deep breath. I know I couldn't calm my racing heart.

I make the sign of the cross, exhaled and took the steps needed for the judges to see me.

"Hey, Lauren." It was Steven Tyler who greeted me first in a sing-song voice.

"Hey, Lauren. What's going on? C'mon in." Randy Jackson followed him and I saw Jennifer Lopez smiling at me.

I knew I had to talk and, as clichéd as it may sound, I asked them: "How y'all doing?"

Jennifer's "Good" answer was eaten up by Randy's who said, "Doing good. So, you're name is Lauren what?"

"Alaina." I answered.

"And who inspired you to come and audition?" Randy went on with the mini-interview. He asked me these things even though I have already answered it all on the form.

Another deep breath.

"My cousin, Holly, actually. Well, she's the reason I ever started singing. I, uh, would go to her house and we'll go to her room, and we'll listen to music and sing all the time, and she urged me to try out, and here I am." I answered it in one breath-something I do when I am _really_ nervous. And, boy, was I nervous!

What Randy says next surprised me. "Alright, you wanna bring her in?"

He didn't even wait for me to answer, instead, he shouted-as if that shout alone could bring Holly-my cousin's name, "Holly!"

I guess, the crew told Ryan about it, who told my family, who then let Holly go because the next thing I knew-and heard-was her footsteps.

"I hear her footsteps." Steven noted what we all were hearing, and it made me wonder if that's how they knew that I was coming-that my footsteps gave me away and not the sound of my beating heart. "Where are you Holl-Hey!"

Even before Steven could finish his question, Holly had appeared to them-to us.

I know Holly is as star struck as I was, if her meek "Hello" was any indication of it.

"C'mon in." Randy welcomed Holly.

"You're gonna make me cry now." I told them, and all they gave me in reply was laughter.

"Alright, now that Holly is here...Lauren, what are you going to sing for us?" Randy asked.

_This is it._

"I'm going to be singing _Like We've Never Loved Before_by Faith Hill." I answered.

"Alright, then sing for us." He said.

_This is really it. It's do or die. Now or never...well, maybe not 'never' never..._

I took a deep breath.

_I want this._

And sang.

I sang for the judges.

I sang for my dream.

And, I sang for Holly.

I had just started the chorus of the song when I saw Randy wave his hand, stopping me.

My first reaction was: _Was it bad? Did I mess it up_?

But before I could register that thought and voice it out, Jennifer Lopez went: "Wow!"

My mouth dropped. That wasn't what I was expecting-but it was what I was hoping for.

"Best we've seen today." Randy nodded.

"Best!" chimed Steven.

And Jennifer went: "Best! _Best_!"

_Are they serious?_

"Best I've seen today in Nashville. I'm telling you, I'm _blown_away." Randy was smiling, and laughing as he spoke. "I'm sitting here, like, 'She could have sang the whole thing'. We were, like, 'We enjoyed it that much!'."

Jennifer nodded. "Yeah."

_Are they really serious? Did I really do that well?_

I looked over at Holly and she was as happy as I was, and I knew that they were serious. Especially when Randy went: "Oh my God."

'Oh my God' was right. But, for me, it was more like: OH. MY. GOD! I was so happy I was starting to tear up again.

"Don't cry, you're gonna make me cry." Jennifer told me, and I could only babble something in response. I couldn't even remember what it was. I was full of happy emotion. I was overwhelmed. To be complimented by these three people...It was _so_amazing.

Randy wasn't finished with his mini-speech, though.

"Guys, guys," He said. "We've got to give mad props to Holly. 'Cuz Holly, you saw something, man. You definitely got a gift."

Holly had walked beside me as Randy was talking. And after hearing that from Randy Jackson, I hugged her and I tried not to do that little snoopy-dance I do whenever I'm happy-whenever I'm overjoyed. Tears were flowing down my cheeks despite Jennifer telling me not to cry.

"See, I think you should cry." Steven said. "Because you're gonna make forty-million people cry."

He then grinned and added, "Tears of joy, baby!"

I laughed as he said those words, and I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes. All the while I was hoping that my mascara wasn't running and I didn't look like a weirdo.

"But, I mean, you've got real, natural, God-given talent." Randy said as I dabbed my eyes.

Jennifer agreed with him again.

"I've been saying it every season. It doesn't matter what age, where, what, what, what...If you got it, you got it." It was one of Randy's famous quotations-one of the things he liked to say. It was right there with "Dawg." and "He( or She) is in it to win it."

"And you've got it." Jennifer was ecstatic, her smile never leaving her face. It was the same for me.

Randy laughed and agreed, "And you _definitely_got it." Then he went on and counted, "1...2...3..."

And they all chorused: "YES!"

"You're going to Hollywood!" Jennifer Lopez told me, as if the YES wasn't enough to tell me that I made it. Three yeses! Three!

"Welcome to Hollywood." Randy chirped.

_I am really going to Hollywood!_

"I can't wait to see you there again." Jennifer said.

"Wow." Randy looked like he was still in disbelief.

I hugged Holly again. I did it. I really did it. I'm going to Hollywood. I have a Golden Ticket!

Then I remembered something, and I went to face the judges again. "Can I say something?"

"Yes." Jennifer said, she didn't even think twice.

"My family is dying to meet y'all and I'm last. Can I go get 'em real quick?" If I was going to meet these three people, my family should meet them too.

They all said yes, and I quickly walked towards the exit to call my family. On my way there, I saw Ryan holding up the Golden Ticket. _My_ Golden Ticket. And when I saw it, I just couldn't help myself, I walked faster and screamed silently...well, not-so-silently as I tried to grab it.

"The last one of the day." Ryan said, smiling at me as he handed me my ticket.

"I've got to go get my family." Was all I could tell him. I'm sure he heard what I asked the judges and what the judges have said.

"Oh, oh...they've been ready for you." Yep, he heard it.

Minutes later, I went back to the stage where the judges were waiting. And I brought my family with me.

"Hi!" It was Jennifer who greeted them first, followed by Randy who said, "Hello Lauren's family."

Then, Jennifer asks me, "Will you sing something in front of your family?"

I was taken aback. I wasn't prepared for another song. I began to quickly scan my head for any song that I could sing. I didn't want to sing Faith Hill's song again. I wanted to show the judges that I am versatile and that I know a lot more songs. My eyes moved to Steven Tyler who was waiting for my answer, and then I remembered...

"My mom and dad's song is one of yours." I told him. "Can I sing that?"

"Oh, yeah?" Jennifer was perked up. "Sing that."

Randy agreed, asking me to sing that, too. I waited for Steven to tell me that it was okay. His answer came in the form of a nod.

And so I sang.

I didn't know what came over me. I wasn't even sure if it was allowed. But, I guess, it was since, when I asked Steven to sing with me, he did. In the back of my head, as I was singing and Randy and Jennifer looked like they were having a good time (as Steven was having), I was beyond happy. Not only did I get myself a Golden Ticket, but I got to sing with Steven Tyler, too!

What's more, when I finished singing-grinning like I just won the lottery-which, in a way, really was like what I was feeling, the judges-all three of them-gave me a standing ovation and Randy was, like, "Woo-hooo! Dude, yo!"

It was the best day of my life.

And it was the start of my Idol journey.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

I really don't like how the FFN's editor messes up my document's format! I'm planning on uploading this in a sort-of book format on my website (check profile for link) for easy reading because of that (you know, with the whole page-flip thing).

Anyways...

Like I've said, I don't know how accurate it is. Now, I know most of you guys are wondering where Scotty is...well, this story is told in Lauren's perspective (I'm still working on the "partner-fic" for this that would be told in Scotty's perspective) so...Scotty won't be in the fic until Hollywood week...which is to say...after the next chapter. XD

The next chapter would (probably) be done on Monday, or Tuesday...depending on the amount of work I have to do and...on whether or not the book I'm working on has already finished being proofread. If the proofreading is done, then you can probably expect an update on Thursday instead, since I would be working on that book first...

Anyways, that's that.

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	3. Countdown to Hollywood

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

I'm glad I was able to update this today.

Just before you guys read this, this chapter has a couple of more OCs in them...and then some. I also forgot the names of Lauren's dogs, so if you know them, please tell me so that I could fix this. I just kept writing "dogs" in them instead of their names there, lol.

Anyways, enough about that. Read the second chapter of this fanfic now. I'm going to post the rest of the author's notes afterwards. XD

**End of Author's Notes**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I _really _don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter Two**

**Countdown to Hollywood!**

* * *

><p>"Are you serious?" Katrina almost screamed at me. Her mouth was hanging open. It was as if I just told her that I had am engaged or something. "You really did go through with it?"<p>

"Yes. I'm serious." I laughed as I answered her.

Katrina is one of my cheerleading friends. She's tall, a bit skinny with copper-colored skin and long, black hair. Her eyes are the color of chocolate and her nose, perfectly pointed. It was the week after I auditioned and we were at the mall trying to find the perfect gift for Jessica, another one of my cheerleading buddies.

"I knew you wanted to audition, Holly told me but I didn't think you're parents were going to let you." Katrina was smiling as she said those words. "So? How did it go? I mean, apart from you _obviously_ getting the Golden Ticket."

"It was nerve wracking." I answered as I remembered the feeling and shuddered.

"No, duh! Don't state the obvious, Lauren." She rolled her eyes.

I laughed.

I knew what Katrina was really asking. It's not really that hard to guess as I have known her since we were kids.

"Yes, Kat." I said while still trying to stifle my laughter. "Ryan Seacrest is as 'hot' as how you thought he was. He's also nice."

Katrina pumped her fists up, "Aha! I knew it! What about the judges?"

"Well, Randy's Randy, and Jennifer was really pretty and beautiful and nice. And Steven? Katrina, it was _amazing_ he's really great. He sang a duet with me when they asked me to sing with my folks on the stage." I reminisced. I knew the smile on my face was getting bigger and wider, but I didn't care. It was amazing. And, even after a week, it still felt so surreal. "And before the audition in front of the judges? There were so many people in the arena you would have thought there was a concert or something, and all of them were interesting."

"I bet." She snickered, and then she stopped dead on her tracks as she seem to process something. "Wait! What? You sang a duet _with _Steven Tyler? _THE _Steven Tyler?"

She was back to shouting again and I was trying my best not to feel embarrassed as passersby looked over at our direction, some of them were shaking their heads while others were staring at me.

"Will you keep it down, Kat?" I asked as I hurried along walking. Don't get me wrong, I'm not really shy or anything...I just don't want people to know that I was going to Hollywood to continue on my 'Idol journey'-as Ryan Seacrest likes to put it. "If you keep this up, the whole town's going to know that I auditioned."

"So?" Katrina asked. "Lauren, they're bound to know sooner or later. Besides, now's the time to start with the publicity. You need votes to win the thing, right? Then we better start getting you those votes."

I knew what she was about to do but before I could say: "Kat, no!", Katrina had run to the middle of the mall, climbed on top of the benches there, cleared her throat and shouted: "Excuse me, people of Rossville!"

_Oh, great..._

Everyone who heard her shout turned their heads towards her. Some of them even stopped walking. And, all of a sudden, the conversations around us seemed to stop.

I wanted to throw my boot towards Katrina to stop her from saying what she was going to say, but I didn't know if I could actually hit her or if I really _do _want to hit her. And so, I resigned myself to whatever may come out of her mouth by hiding my face with my hand, as if I have a migraine-which, I probably would end up having later.

"People of Rossville, I'm sure you know about American Idol, right?" Katrina went on with her impromptu speech. There was a murmur and a nod from the crowd. "Good. You may not know who I am..."

"Of course we do!" Someone shouted, it was a guy and I knew the voice well. It was Katrina's boyfriend, Trey.

The crowd laughed and I couldn't help but laugh along with them. It was true what Trey said, though. People knew who Katrina Raynolds was...just like how they probably know who I am.

"Okay, so you guys know who I am." Katrina corrected herself with a smile and a shrug. "The thing is, someone from our town is going to be part of the show, American Idol. She auditioned and she got through to Hollywood."

People started murmuring once again, sounding excited. I wasn't sure if it was alright to let the whole Rossville know that I was going to be part of the show, but there was no stopping Katrina now...and once again, I was back to contemplating on whether I should throw my boot towards her.

"The one who has a shot at making it to the live shows is..." She paused for the maximum effect of anticipation that she was hoping for. It was like the whole crowd was waiting with bated breath. "...Lauren Alaina Suddeth!"

* * *

><p>"You really just have to open your mouth, do you, Kat?" I heard Jessica say as she stroked my hair.<p>

Jessica is your typical cheerleader. She's blond, well-manicured, well-groomed, and slender. Apart from being one of my friends, she is also the leader of our squad.

I was lying on her bed, my face hidden on top of one of her plushy pillows. It was a nightmare getting out of the mall after Katrina's speech. Everywhere I went, people were smiling at me and congratulating me; telling me that I am representing them in American Idol. They were right, I am representing them but I was trying not to think about that before. And now, after what Katrina did, I found myself thinking, wondering, contemplating...

"I don't see what the problem is." Katrina huffed as she crossed her arms. "Everyone is going to find out as soon as they-and by 'they' I mean those American Idol people and the press-start interviewing people about Lauren."

I heard Jessica sigh. "The problem is that now Lauren would feel pressured about the whole thing and people would be expecting much of her."

"Well, people _are _already expecting much from her." Katrina argued...which, let's face it, was not a good argument.

"Lauren, tell her." Jessica urged me.

"Ugh..." Was all I could say on my defense.

* * *

><p>I was in my room when I heard the phone ring and I didn't bother to answer it. I was already busy working on my homework and I didn't want the distraction. Plus, Tyler or mom could answer it as I was sure that the phone call wasn't for me. After all, I <em>do <em>have my own cellphone. If my friends wanted to talk to me, they could call there instead of our landline.

But, I should have known that something like this was bound to happen. Of course, this isn't the first time. I'm used to it. But still...

I heard Tyler's heavy footsteps before I heard him knock.

"Come in." I called.

He didn't come in, though. He just opened my door and peered inside.

"Mom wants you go downstairs, ASAP." he told me.

I turned around and raised my eyebrow in response. I really don't like having to stop whatever it is I'm doing-especially homework, and especially when said homework is pilling up thanks to my part-time work and my cheerleading activities.

"Don't look at me like that. I know about your homework and so does mom. But...It's kind of important."

"More important than my education?" I asked in mock-surprise.

Tyler laughed and I grinned as I stood up and stretched before walking out of my room.

As I was walking down the stairs, I strained my ears to hear if mom was still talking on the phone...or talking to anyone. I really didn't have a clue why she would be calling for me when she knew that I was working on my homework-my _Math _homework-the one homework that I don't want anyone interrupting me. But, I couldn't hear anything. The house was quiet. Heck, even my dogs weren't making noise.

_Something is definitely up..._

I cleared my throat. I don't really like the silence all that much.

"Mom?" I called as I took the stairs one step at a time. "Tyler told me you wanted to talk to me?"

_I swear, if Tyler made that up I'm going to..._

"Over here, honey!" My mom called, her voice coming from the kitchen.

I made my way to the kitchen and I found my mom sitting on a high stool just beside the island counter. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a baby blue spaghetti shirt and I noticed that she was preparing our dinner just before I came in.

"Did you want something, mom?" I asked, trying not to sound too impatient while thinking about my homework pile.

I walked towards my mom and sat on the high stool opposite hers.

"Father Mossimo just called." My mom informed me just as I was about to pluck a carrot stick from the pile.

I looked at my mom. Father Mossimo was the head of the our church here in Rossville and he rarely calls...unless there was some sort of trouble, emergency...or fund-raising activity.

"What did he want?" I asked, trying not to sound wary and hoping that it wasn't bad news or something. I tried to think back and remember if I did anything at church that might warrant a reprimand from the good Father, but I couldn't think of any. Not that Father Mossimo ever called my mom to complain about me.

"They're having a fund raiser this Sunday and they want you and the rest of the squad there." my mom answered.

I frowned. "Why would he call us? Shouldn't he be calling Jessica's family? I'm not the head cheerleader, mom."

"And I told him that. But, apart from the cheerleading that you girls would be doing, he wants you to sing, too."

_Of course._

"Oh." was what I did say, however.

It had been a month since Katrina spilled my whole American Idol audition and me going to Hollywood. Now, everyone in town knows and in every, single event, they had been asking me to sing. Not that I minded. I enjoyed singing and I love seeing the crowds' faces when I sing. The adrenaline rush that I feel on stage can't compare to anything I have ever felt in my life.

"What did you tell him?" I asked.

"That I would ask you first." She answered.

My mom's like that. Even though she knew that I wouldn't mind and that I would love to do something for the community, she doesn't answer these requests easily. She speaks with me first and asks me what I want to do.

"Well, I don't mind." I answered with a shrug as I propped the carrot stick on my mouth. "It will be fun...I think. Besides, I need the exposure."

My mom laughed. "Exposure? I think Kat's getting to you."

It was my turn to laugh. If there was one thing Kat was right about, it was that I did need the townspeople to support me, and this was one way to get that support while getting practice, exposure, and, most of all, giving back to God.

"So, we're good on Sunday? I'm going to call Father Mossimo now." My mom asked, wanting to make sure.

I nodded. "I'm sure."

* * *

><p>It was already September. Five more months before I head to California. To Hollywood.<p>

The fundraising for the church had been a success and Father Massimo was beaming after I sang. The rest of my squad was just as glad as I was. Those who heard me sing was proud and I could see hope in their eyes. They wanted me to be able to go through Hollywood week. Their desire for me to be a part of American Idol could be mirrored with my own desire. I guess, living in such a small town as Rossville, everyone really was like family. We want what's best for each other.

The producers from American Idol had just finished talking with my mom over the phone. The bottom-line of their conversation was that a crew would be heading their way here and they would be filming...well, me. It was for my promo or something. I don't really know about all that stuff since my mom's the one who they talk to and who's taking care of all of that. My mom's like my manager now and I always find myself smiling at the thought.

"They'll be here next week." My mom informed me. "They just want to get a shot of what your life is like here, the house, the town, stuff like that. And there's a short interview."

"I hope it's not Lissa." I muttered under my breath. I didn't really like her. The memory of her pushing me to tell a story that wasn't entirely mine to tell still lingered at the back of my head.

I'm not sure if my mom heard me but if she did, she didn't show. Instead, she went on to say, "You should call Holly and your friends. I'm sure Kat would jump into the idea of being filmed."

I laughed. My mom knew my friends well.

"I bet." I picked up the phone, ready to dial Holly's number. "It's really happening, isn't it, mom?"

My mom stopped what she was doing-which was watching television-and turned to face me. I knew she did, even though I was facing the wall where our phone was mounted.

"Does it still feel like a dream to you?" She asked.

I nodded. "I know it seems silly since it's just one audition and there's still Hollywood week and I'm not even sure if I would make it farther than that...but it seems like I really am on my way to reach my dream, mom."

I heard my mom stand up and her footsteps as she walked towards me. Before I knew it, my mom had hugged me from behind. I could smell her perfume. It was a smell that I knew I would never forget. A smell that I love. It was the smell of home.

"You're going to make it, Lauren. You're going to sail through Hollywood week and then you're going to make it to the Top 12."

"I hope you're right, mom. I hope you're right."

* * *

><p>I was ready and waiting a week and a half later. We were dismissed early from school and my friends Jessica and Katrina both wanted to see the American Idol crew when they arrive. Holly was already in my house when we arrived. I decided not to go overboard with dressing myself and just resigned to wearing something simple-jeans and a shirt. It was contradictory to what Katrina wanted me to wear (which was a summer dress) and what Jessica was hoping I would wear (my cheerleading outfit). Holly, on the other hand, thought that it was a good idea to showcase my simple-side.<p>

"There's no need to dress up." She had told me on the phone the night before.

And so, I didn't dress up. I didn't even go to the salon to have my hair done or put any make up on. I decided to show America who I am and not hide behind a glamour-a façade-that wasn't entirely me.

"So, do we, like, need to set up banners and stuff?" Katrina asked.

I looked at her dumbfounded. "Are you seriously asking that question?"

Jessica just shook her head and Holly laughed.

"Please don't do something extreme, Kat." Jessica told her. "We want them to _like_ Lauren, not be weirded-out."

"And no blabbing, making unnecessary comments, divulging extremely embarrassing moments, and stuff like that." I added. I knew that, if given the chance, Katrina was going to go for it. It's kind of scary hanging out with her because of that...but also fun at the same time.

"That's no fun." Katrina pouted, then she turned to Holly and said, "So, did you also see Seacrest during the auditions?"

Holly nodded and I sighed before both Holly and Katrina exchanged Ryan Seacrest gossip.

_This is going to be a long afternoon._

Two hours later, a van pulled over by the side of our house and Katrina squealed. She was more excited than I was and she wasn't feeling the same nervousness that I was feeling. I wasn't sure what they wanted to film or what I should be doing and so, I decided to just trust my mom and hope that me and my friends don't do something stupid...or embarrassing...or both.

My mom told me to go with her as we welcomed our guest. I didn't have a choice in that, and so I went with her.

I was surprised when, after my mom opened the door, I saw Harry the Cameraman.

Thanks to my surprise, I blurted out: "It's you!"

Harrygrined as he adjusted the camera on his shoulder and said, "Yep. It's good to see you again Lauren Alaina, you too, Mrs. Kristy."

My mom smiled at Harry and let him in the house. "Make yourself at home."

I looked at the van and saw several other people climbing out. One of them was another cameraman-a guy I've never seen before, and then there's the driver, and...Lissa.

I forced myself not to frown. It's not like I _hate _Lissa. It's just that I'm not really comfortable around her...and, I don't like her. Not liking a person is not the same as hating them...at least, not in my book.

"Good afternoon, Kristy and Lauren." Lissa greeted once she was standing in our front porch.

"Good afternoon." My mom and I greeted her.

"So, where should we start?" the other Cameraman asked.

He had a long hair tied in a ponytail and wearing skinny jeans and a black shirt. He was also chewing a gum and he sounded like he's a member of a Mafia.

"You film the house first, Marcus." Lissa instructed, then she walked in and turned to face Harry who had started filming the interior of our house. "You keep filming inside, Harry." Lissa then turned to face my mom and asked, "Where's the best place to hold the interview?"

"How about the backyard?" My mom asked. "It's spacious and it has privacy."

Lissa nodded and both she and my mom began walking to the direction of the backyard. I looked at my friends, Katrina and Jessica, who were both ogling at Harry as they steered clear of the camera's sight. I guess he told them that he was just shooting the inside of the house or something. Holly caught my gaze and gave me a knowing smile. We both have the same thing in mind-Katrina had forgotten all about Ryan Seacrest.

* * *

><p>"Do you have any photographs of Lauren growing up?" Lissa asked my mom several minutes after she had asked me all she needed to know for this interview.<p>

My mom nodded and I wanted so badly to answer her: "Duh!", but, of course, I didn't. We have to be hospitable and not be antagonistic, especially since Lissa is more civil and had more emotion than a rock now. I guess, she wasn't as bad as I though she was.

"Would you mind if we scanned some of them? We have the equipment on the van." Lissa said.

"Oh, go ahead. You can even scan them in the house." Mom answered.

Lissa nodded, stood up, and followed mom back in the house.

I sighed. I felt drained. I haven't seen my friends and Holly ever since the interview began, but I do know that they were also being interviewed. I had made a silent prayer to God that none of them would spill my secrets and embarrassing moments.

I let myself slump farther in my chair and closed my ears. I listened to the birds chirping. I was glad that it wasn't that cold out that afternoon. The nervousness that I have felt had melted away, either because the interview was over, or because I was used to the questions already-they were pretty much the same questions they had asked me. I wasn't that emotional as the first time around. Before I knew it, I was humming...and later singing.

I had just finished singing the first stanza of my idol, Carrie Underwood's _Ain't in Checotah Anymore_ when I heard someone speak.

"Carrie Underwood, not bad."

I was so surprised. I didn't think anyone would come out of here. And my surprise caused me to jump up from where I was sitting. The laughter that followed caused my face to flush before I saw who it was that interrupted me.

It was Harry. Harry with his camera rolling and pointed at me.

"I really hope you aren't filming this." I said as I crossed my arms.

"I sure am." was his response. Then he grinned and added, "It's my job."

"Please tell me that the whole me-jumping-out-of-my-seat-in-surprise isn't going to be aired on national television." I groaned.

Harry laughed as he placed his camera on the table behind me and said, "Nah. I'm just messing with you. But I do need a shot of you doing...normal, girly stuff."

"'Normal girly stuff'?" I laughed as I quoted him. "Like what? Shopping?"

Harry cringed. "Oh, no. Not shopping. That would be disastrous to shoot. I'm thinking more like, what do you do for fun stuff?"

"Apart from going to the mall and hanging out with my friends?" I asked him. When he nodded, I contemplated a bit before answering, "Practicing cheerleading. You met Jessica and Katrina, right? They're part of my squad. Jessica's the head cheerleader, though...so, it's more like her squad than mine."

"Yeah, they told me all about you and cheerleading. Got it all on tape. Not sure if Lissa or the producers will be using that footage, though...we can only cram so much on a short amount of time." He then took his camera and propped it back on his shoulder and said, "Alright then, show me some cheerleading moves. Do a backflip, or a cartwheel, or something."

"Are you serious?" I asked. "You want me to do a cartwheel for national television?"

"Yeah. And stop with the whole 'national television' thing, Ms. Lauren Alaina." He replied. "It's going to be all for national television. You already know that, don't you?"

Just before I could find something to say, to argue to him about how I don't want to do a cartwheel, my friends decided to crash in on us.

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" Holly asked, innocently.

Katrina raised an eyebrow at us, and she didn't wait for a reply as she asked me, "Is he hitting on you, Lauren? You know that Tyler won't be too happy with that."

I blushed even as Harry explained what he wanted me to do. Katrina's comment made me wonder why Harry was being nice to me. I decided to ask him about that sometime.

"Do it, Lauren." Jessica said. "It's not like you've got anything to lose doing a cartwheel."

"But she won't gain anything from it either." Katrina was so nice to point out.

"Why don't we all do it?" Holly voiced out. "Harry doesn't need to film us doing it, but it would be fun."

"I could film you all doing cartwheels, it's just a question on whether Lissa and the producers will be able to fit it all in or not." Harry shrugged. "And I'm not really particular if it's a cartwheel or a backflip, or a three-sixty-degrees flip, or whatever. Just do something fun. Heck, I'm even willing to film a pillow fight."

"I bet you are." I heard Katrina snort.

In the end, we did do cartwheels. Lots of it. And all the while Harry filmed us. At one point, I did a perfect cartwheel and couldn't help myself from facing the camera and saying "Ta-da!" like it's some sort of magic trick. It was pretty fun, and it made me forget-for a while, at least-what this whole filming was about. For a moment, I was back to being Lauren Ailana, the fifteen-year-old having fun with her friends and not Lauren Alaina an Idol hopeful.

It was only when it was already dark when Lissa and her crew decided to leave. Just before she and Harry left, I mustered enough courage to ask Harry why he was being nice to me.

"Not that I'm complaining, but don't you guys have rules with interacting with the contestants or something?" I asked.

Harry thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Not really. Besides, I'm just a cameraman. It's not like I could sway whatever happens in this show. I heard your audition, you know. And you're really great. Just think of me as a fan. A fan with a camera."

And then he laughed.

* * *

><p>We were at the airport. Both my mom and I were already ready to board the plane that would take us to Hollywood.<p>

Since I wasn't allowed to go by myself, and since it was going to be much more fun with company, my mom was going to go with me to Hollywood and she's going to stay there for the whole week.

"Are you sure you both got everything you need?" My dad asked.

Unfortunately, my dad had to stay at home with Tyler and my dogs.

"Yes." I nodded. I was eager and nervous at the same time...and I couldn't help but wonder if I will stop being nervous about this whole idol-thing soon.

"Don't worry, JJ." My mom said. "I already checked before we left. We got everything we need. I'll call you as soon as we land and get settled in."

My dad nodded. He kissed my mom and then after the short display of public affection, my dad turned to me.

"You be sure to give it your best, alright?" He said. "Show 'em what you can do and just..."

"...be yourself." I finished. It wasn't the first time I heard that speech. "I will dad."

My dad then took a step back and it was Tyler's turn to say goodbye to mom and me.

"Be sure to buy me some souvenirs." He said to my mom. And then to me he said, "And knock 'em dead, sis."

"You betcha." I sounded giddy as one word kept repeating itself on my head: _Hollywood_. "Just be sure to take care of my dogs, Tyler. I swear, if something happens to them..."

"I'll make sure he takes care of them." My dad interjected before I could figure out a threat that would really make Tyler think twice about forgetting to feed, or bathe, or clean the cages of my dogs. "You just keep your head focused on the game."

I nodded.

It took a few more minutes before we heard the voice on the PA system telling us that we can now board our plane.

I smiled at my dad and my older brother. I wanted them to see me look confident-and I did feel confident, well, somewhat. I then followed my mom into the plane and into the destiny that awaits me in Hollywood. Into '_Hell Week_'.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

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><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

I'm really happy with the number of people reading this fanfic and the positive comments that you all have given it. It's been a while since I wrote a fanfic and I was a bit worried that people won't appreciate this one. So, for all the readers of this fanfic, the McLaina lovers and supporters (like myself, XD), and those who wish that Lauren and Scotty _are_ a couple, this fanfic is for you all and I do promise to update it as regularly as I can.

Now that that's said, allow me to note a few points of this fanfic, and this chapter...

Like I've said, this is an AU fanfic. I'm not sure about the credibility of the facts in this fanfic...that's why I labeled it as such.

For one, I only know that the Nashville Auditions were held on the seventeenth (17) of July but, I don't know when the Hollywood week really started (and I don't mean when it aired). I read some place that it was held on February, but I don't know if that is accurate. Still, I decided to use that, thus the time frame of this chapter.

Second, I don't know the names of Lauren's friends in her squad. I don't know their personalities and such, and so I decided to make an OC of two of them (yes, I know she has a lot of friends but for the sake of being able to give a personality to these 'friends' I decided to create/write about/highlight only two of them-my fictional characters: Jessica and Katrina.

Third, Harry is there for a reason. Fourth, the same goes for Lissa...and fifth, I need to re-watch Hollywood week before I can continue with this fanfic. But, this may be (or is) slightly (or greatly) different from what actually happens in real life...for the reason that it's meant to be a McLaina fiction. XD And, it's much easier for me to write that way.

I know my chapters aren't that long. Also, I know that the way I type how Lauren thinks or speaks doesn't have that southern accent. The reason why I don't type 'y'all' and usually type 'you all' is because, Lauren doesn't believe she has an accent (I remember that much from the show since I was laughing at that and how the rest of the contestants were teasing her about it)...more on this on the later chapters.

Now, the next chapter would be: **Hell Week** and we'll finally get to read about Scotty. Although Lauren is still going to be the one narrating (like I've said, this is their Idol journey from Lauren's perspective).

Anyways, that's that.

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	4. Hell Week, Part One

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Aaaannddd...we have another update for this fanfic, folks!

I'm not going to post much on this part of the author's notes (will do the posting on the Post Author's Notes) since it's a long one, so...I'm just going to go on ahead and let you guys read the chapter first. Hope you all enjoy! (^_^)

**End of Author's Notes**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I _really _don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter Three**

**Hell Week, Part One**

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><p>I didn't know what to expect when my mom and I boarded the plane that would take us to Hollywood. Or, maybe, I did have my expectations but I was just telling myself to expect the unexpected. But, what had greeted my mom and me when we got in that plane really wasn't in my lists of expectations.<p>

I guess, when you have been watching American Idol your whole life, you tend to believe that what they show you are the juicy stuff-you know, stuff that would boost the ratings, stuff that would entertain. I was wrong about that. There were more than just strangers in that plane. All around me, seated with their chaperones and their small entourage, were the other contestants from the Nashville auditions that had earned the Golden Ticket...and then some.

As my mom steered me to our seat, I looked around and wondered: _Are all of us here people who got the Golden Ticket?_

I got my answer when I looked at the back. Sitting there were people wearing black shirt with American Idol logos on them and jeans-Cameramen and a small crew from American Idol.

I scanned the faces of these 'Officials'.

I didn't really know why I was doing it until my mom caught me staring at them and said, "I guess Lissa and her crew are already there in Hollywood."

_'Lissa and her crew'._

_Harry._

I didn't know why but I blushed at the thought of Harry. Why was I thinking of him? Even though it was sort of unconsciously? What's more, why was I blushing? I, Lauren Alaina Suddeth, rarely blush!

I shrugged as I tried to look nonchalant. I don't think I have a crush on Harry but, knowing my mom, she wouldn't be happy with what she would think as an 'infatuation' with someone who is much, much, _much_ older than I am...even if the age gap was three years.

I sat down after my mom and turned my head to what lay in front of me. The people who were with us on that plane-the other contestants-they were all giddy and merrily chatting with those that were beside them. Some were standing around and getting to know other people. Most, however, were just on their seats-like me-and looking around, nervousness, anticipation, and excitement oozing from them.

When the plane took off, we knew we had a couple of hours before we get to Hollywood-maybe even half a day. I had thought that people would just take out their iPods and plug their earphones on-tuning the world out. I had thought that people would be taking this time to rest, to sleep, to relax before we all faced the inevitable. But, there were only a handful of people-at least, from where I could see-that had taken their iPods out and plugged their earphones in. There were only a few people who slept and relaxed.

Those of us who stay awake? Well, we sort of had a concert on the plane. People were singing and singing. We sung all sorts of songs from all sorts of artists. We were, surprisingly, all bonding and (to some degree) gauging our competition. It was, without a doubt, the most fun plane ride I have ever been on.

There was one guy on the plane, however, that caught my interest...and my surprise. He was sitting a couple of rows to my right, next to a man that I could only guess was his father, his uncle, or some other male relative. There wasn't anything special with him at first glance. He didn't have that Brad Pitt or Ewan McGregor look. He wasn't wearing anything flashy, or cool. What he wore didn't scream 'Star Power'. But, for some reason, I found myself looking at him.

He had really, _really _short hair and his eyes were closed. But that serious look on his face told me that he wasn't sleeping and the way that his mouth moved quickly told me he was mumbling something. He was dressed cleanly with a plain white button-up shirt and jeans. He was thumbing something that hangs around his neck. I caught a flash of silver and a familiar shape and I knew what it was-a cross. I was intrigued by him, to be honest. And I wondered if he was singing to himself or chanting something to ease the nerves.

It may be because I was staring at him far too long. People may even say that it wasn't that but it was fate. Or maybe this guy just has some third-sense or is psychic or something because he suddenly opened his eyes and turned to my direction. It was like he _knew_ I was staring at him. I panicked when he looked at me. I thought he was going to raise an eyebrow or flip me off or something and that moment in that plane as that boy stared back at me felt like minutes, hours, months, years...no, it felt like forever (but it was actually just a second or two). But the boy didn't raise an eyebrow at me. He didn't look smug the way some guys tend to look when you're checking them out-not, that I was checking this guy out! He didn't give me the finger or any rude gesture. No. This boy, he just...smiled. He smiled and nodded at me.

I caught myself smiling back and then, for the second time that day. I, Lauren Alaina Suddeth, blushed.

* * *

><p>We weren't allowed to get off the plane even after it has landed. First, we were briefed on what we should do once we get off the plane and once the security procedures were over and done with. It was like we were all extras on some movie and this was the part where we all come in. Everyone was already impatient, and I can't blame them. I was as impatient as they were...Impatient and tired.<p>

Our chaperones and entourage-those people who came with us-were the ones who got to get off the plane first.

I nodded at my mom. She was going to wait for me to pick up our luggage (not to mention that, since I am _still_ not legal yet, she has to stick around me at all times) before we make our way to the theater where Hollywood Week will officially start.

I put my hat back on and looked at the window-which turned out to be stupid since I couldn't see my reflection in the window, it was too bright-and so I had to only just hope that I looked presentable and not haggard, and to make a mental note to always have a mirror-even a small one-with me for times like this.

The moment the 'nonessentials'-as the crew called them-were out of the plane and the security measures were implemented and done with, we were finally allowed to literally rush out of the plane's holding area and-by instruction-look excited and fun-it wasn't hard to do that. We were all feeling fun and excited...well, among other things.

After all that, we had to wait...again. During that waiting period, Cameramen swarmed around us. Some of them were taking shots of people boasting about how they were the next American Idol or about how great they were. Some were talking about how excited they are to be here, or about all that they hope to accomplish by joining a competition such as this. Others were talking about how much 'hell' there would be in Hell Week.

There was one such girl that I happen to stand beside with whom one cameraman was filming. She was shorter than I was with dark brown hair and a smile that kind of screams "Class President". She was wearing a white overcoat, a green and white stripped scarf and a sort of dark-green pair of leggings. I didn't know what her name was until the cameraman, who for some reason knew her name, called her "Victoria".

I guess I was sleepy since I didn't get to hear what the cameraman's question was, but I did hear what she answered...and what she said, well, I'm sorry to say but it made me force myself not to laugh. Don't get me wrong. I'm not mean and I don't enjoy laughing at other's expense but...well...

I guess what the cameraman asked was, "How do you feel about Hollywood Week?"

What Victoria said was, "I am really excited about this week and the next week." I couldn't help but look at her when she spoke. "Hollywood is that one where some singers dread but I'm ready especially for group week..."

_Is she serious?_ I couldn't help but wonder. _She's already thinking that far ahead...already thinking about Group Week?_

She then takes a breath and added, "I'm ready to put some choreography in there."

As soon as she said those lines she began doing that whole dancing-in-place thing. It was kind of cute and funny, to be honest. Well, okay..._she_ is kind of funny. I didn't know what else she could have said because at that moment, my mom and I-along with the other contestants-were already being ushered in to the bus that would take us to the hotel.

As we were heading out of the airport, I couldn't help but look around and search for the boy who had smiled at me.

* * *

><p>The hotel was grand...well, not majestic-grand or oh-my-god-it-costs-a-lot-grand but it was, for me, pretty nice and grand. I mean, it's a California hotel. I've never been in one before.<p>

But, the hotel's allure was suddenly lost on me when I heard a familiar voice. It was Victoria and she still wasn't finished with her interview.

I didn't bother to listen or to see how it goes like some of the contestants, but I did hear her say, "I'm gonna stay for a while 'coz I am the next American Idol so..." and I saw her roll her eyes before adding, "Duh!"

The sound of her laughter echoed in the hall but it was soon drowned out by the sound of chattering as those of us who flew from the same plane met with the other contestants who flew on a different flight. And, that was a lot of people.

* * *

><p>I felt drained as I fell on the bed in my and my mom's, hotel room.<p>

I was glad that we were allowed an hour's rest before we head off for the start of Hollywood Week. We were told to use that time both to rest and to prepare for the first round. We were to sing acapella in front of the judges. I know that round very well. I have watched nine American Idol seasons worth of it.

"Are you going to change for the first round, Lauren?" My mom asked. "Do you want to take a bath before you head down there?"

I lifted my head just enough to see my mom busying herself with our luggage. She was already taking some stuff out and hanging some of the clothes on the cabinets. It was like there was no doubt in her mind that I would make it through and that we would get to stay here in Hollywood for a while longer.

I wasn't sure if I doubted that. I'm not sure if I doubted myself. All I'm sure of was that, in some ways, no matter what happens this week, I feel like I've already won. I mean, how many fifteen-year-olds could say that they've managed to get to the Hollywood Week round of American Idol? That's got to be a milestone or something. But, of course, I _want _to make it through. I _want _to be the next American Idol.

_I just have to show the judges and everyone how much I want this._

"I think I'll go take a bath, mom." I answered. "I don't want to look ragged. They are looking for the whole package and I want to be one of those people who they think have a potential to be a star."

"That's the spirit." My mom beamed at me as she handed me a towel.

I stood up, took the towel, and went to take a bath both to clean myself up and to calm my nerves.

* * *

><p>We were ushered into the theater and we didn't bother to loiter around outside. The December air was cold enough and-add that to our nerves-it would not be a good idea to stay behind outside...not to mention that the American Idol crew is making sure to prep us up about what's going to happen for that day...for that round.<p>

They asked us to form several lines after we have gotten our number from the receptionist. All three-hundred-and-twenty seven of us were lined up-based on the group that we would be singing in for our acapella solos for round one-as the camera crews got themselves ready and Ryan Seacrest walked into the room with the judges. We hooted and cheered, clapped our hands for the three people that would hold our fate in their hands...and for Ryan Seacrest.

There was a countdown.

"3..."

I took a breath, my heart was pounding so loud that I was sure those around me could hear it.

"2..."

I scanned the room and I saw the faces of those whose hopes and dreams lay on the line, on this day...on this round.

"1..."

And then I saw him. The boy I had seen in the plane. The boy who had smiled at me. He was looking at Ryan Seacrest, a serious look was on his face.

"It's show time!" One of the crew members shouted.

Ryan took that cue and went on with his monologue...or speech, whatever you want to call it.

"This year is going to be twice as hard because we have doubled the amount of contestants." Ryan said as he walked in the middle of the groups, the line, and made his way towards the front of the stage, facing the judges. "Two times the drama. Two times the talent. But there is only one Hollywood Week."

He paused. The kind of pause that was meant to add a dramatic flair to the whole thing. Right there, on that stage, with all the other three-hundred-and-so contestants, it wasn't just drama Ryan added with those words. It was a collective yet silent gasp as every one of us had one thing in mind: _This is it_.

"Brace yourself." Ryan Seacrest said as he stopped right in front of us, his backs turned on the judges who are sitting comfortably. "This is American Idol!"

There was a collective cheer, a collective intake of breath. And then someone shouted, "And Cut!"

* * *

><p>I was trying not to shake in my boots.<p>

I have heard a lot of great singers perform who had gotten through and a couple of great singers who failed to impress the judges and were booted out of the competition. It was as harsh as they said, even harsher than what I have watched on television. This was the real deal. The uncensored Hollywood Week.

I have often wondered why they called it Hell Week. I thought it was because the contestants' nerves were fried, they feel stressed and they feel that they are in hell. I was only beginning to learn slowly the real reason why Hollywood Week was always called 'Hell Week'.

As I climbed up the stage with the group that I was a part of, I had to force myself to focus and to not forget the words. There were a couple of singers who forgot the words to their songs and they got sent home, even when they have an exceptional voice.

That was the first reason why it was called 'Hell Week'. There were no second chances.

I was in line with other great singers. I knew they were great because I had heard them singing before when they were practicing their song. One of them was a guy with a bandana wrapped around his forehead. He was wearing a sort of 'rocker' look. I heard his name is James Durbin.

Then there was a girl with the same blondish-brown hair as mine (though I wasn't born a blond). She was familiar to me and I vaguely recall seeing her in the Nashville Auditions. Her name is Stormi Henley, if I recall correctly.

They both sang before I did. James kind of reminded me a little of Adam Lambert...minus the 'glam' but with a lot more of the 'rock'.

It seemed like forever before I was finally handed the microphone. I took a deep breath, smiled and walked to the middle of the stage. I didn't waste any time for as soon as I said my name, my age, and where I auditioned, I went on ahead and sang 'Unchained Melody'. I figured, if I would have to showcase my voice again, and since it has been months since they last heard me sing, I might as well remind the judges why they put me through and why they gave me a Golden Ticket. Unchained Melody felt like the right song to do that...without really showing too much of what I can do...yet.

For some reason, I began to ask myself 'What would Simon think?' as I sang. I guess that's why I did my best with that performance.

At the end of my song, as I took a bow and I heard the applause, all I could say was "Thank you". And with that, I returned to my place in the line to wait for the verdict. Was I going to go through to the next round or will I be going home?

As the judges began to call out names, asking them to step forward, I was praying. And I was praying hard. I was praying that I would be safe, that I would make it through the next round.

They called James' name first.

"James, step forward." Randy commanded. James did as he was told.

Then Randy called my name, "Lauren, step forward." I bowed my head and took a step-well, actually, four steps-forward to line up with James. As I walked forward, my prayers intensified.

The judges' faces, their voices as they called my name, betrayed no emotion.

And then Randy said, "Paris, step forward."

Paris walked forward as well, standing right beside me.

"Front row..." This was it; Randy was going to tell us whether we've made it through or not. There was a long- a very long-pause before he went on to say, "Congratulations, you've made it through to the next round..."

Whatever Randy said after that, I couldn't remember. I feel so elated that all I could do was put my hands in front of my face. I wanted to cry. Tears of joy fell from my eyes, down my cheeks and my jaw. I have made it through. I had slipped past another hurdle unscathed!

As the doors that led outside the stage opened, I couldn't help but pump both of my fists up and give a hoot of victory like James and Paris. The smile on my face was also something that I didn't bother to hide, despite feeling bad about the others not making it.

* * *

><p>The boy that I had been curious about didn't sing during the first day of Hollywood Week. It turns out, he was going to sing the next day-the day that was our free day. And this time, those of us who sang during the first day would be able to do what we please during the second day of acapella solo performances. I decided, out of morbid (yes, I do admit that I was <em>that<em> curious) curiosity, to watch the other half of the contestants sing. And, I also wanted to know the name of that boy.

My mom was happy that I decided not to goof around and just watch the other contestants with her. She was just as curious as I was, but for another different reason. Of course, I didn't tell her what mine was...

When he finally took the stage, I learned what his name was. Scotty McCreery. Age, 17. From Gartner, North Carolina. And when he sang...Oh, boy. He has a very deep voice, a traditional country singer's voice with the smoothness in it that so few truly possess. I was surprised and I couldn't help cheering along with the others when he sang. I noticed that the judges were having fun as well. They liked him; there was no question about it.

"Scotty McCreery, huh..." I muttered.

"Did you say something, honey?" My mom asked.

"Ah, no, mom. Nothing. I just said that he sounded great." I said, nodding at Scotty's direction.

"Yeah, he has a pretty deep voice." My mom nodded.

I looked at Scotty again and he was smiling and nodding his thanks to the other contestants who were patting his back before the next contestant took the microphone from him. When all of them have sung, it was Jennifer's turn to say the verdict.

"Are you ready? Let's go." Jennifer said, and then she called his name. "Can I have...Scott, please step forward." Then she corrected herself, "Scotty?"

Scotty did as he was told. He looked as serious as when I saw him on the plane and when Ryan was talking yesterday.

Then Jennifer called some more people to step forward. When she has finished, there were six people in the front row...and all of them, Steven announced, had made it through.

I smiled. I didn't know why but I suddenly felt happy for Scotty...even though he was a stranger to me. I guess it was because he was a country singer-we both have the same genre...or maybe it was because of that smile he gave me.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

When I first plotted the chapters, I thought about doing a single chapter for Hollywood Week...but, I decided to go against it since I was planning to add a couple of things to it. Five days worth of action, drama, and suspense rarely fits in a single chapter without making said chapter look too cramped and making it hard for readers to read...unless, you plan on skipping some things. But, I can't afford not writing about the other things that, in this AU, happens during Hell Week...and so, Hell Week will have three parts.

Yes. Three.

That being said...I would like to remind people that this is an AU-ish fanfic. That's why, the whole plane-scene, the airport scene (with the exception of Victoria Higgin's interview)-to name a few-have a fictional touch in them. They didn't happen. Whatever happened in that plane, or in the airport, that wasn't aired-I don't really know. I wasn't there...I I was there, I would have went straight to Lauren and Scotty, and Pia and James and asked for their autograph because they are my favorites in the show...but, then again, we didn't know about them yet...over here, at least...

I would like to thank you all again for taking time to read this fanfic. And I do hope you continue to support, review, like, fave, whatever...except flame, this little work of mine. I'm having as much fun writing this as you guys are (probably) enjoying it. I'm going to keep updating this as frequently as I can and keep you all satiated. XD

Anyways, that's that.

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	5. Hell Week, Part Two

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

I have to say that I am really sorry for not being able to update sooner. A lot of things are going on in the real world right now that I have to deal with-like looking for a different job. Anyways, I know how most of you are looking forward to the continuation of Hell Week, so...here is the second part of this particular story arc. XD

Enjoy!

**End of Author's Notes**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I _really _don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

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><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter Four**

**Hell Week, Part Two**

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><p>It was already afternoon and I decided that it was high time to stop watching the other contestants. We knew-or could guess at least-what awaits us tomorrow. Group week. <em>The<em> group week. The week that is portrayed on television as the most dramatic day of the whole Hell Week.

So, what did we do? I mean, those of us who had finished with our solos and have gotten through to the next round the day before and even, earlier that day? Well, we went on ahead and grouped ourselves accordingly. We knew how it would go, we even knew what the songs were, what choices we have...and we knew what we needed to do. We didn't want to be the group that killed (in a bad way) it, or the singer who messed up the whole group, or the group who threw their chance to be stars away. It was one of the biggest hurdles in Hollywood Week, and we all know it.

That was why we were so serious with practicing-choreographing, song choice, and even getting the members that would compliment us and make our group strong.

Our group was made of five girls: me, Ashley, Angela, Blaire, and Brittany. The song we were going to perform? It was supposed to be Cee Lo's "Forget You". It may not have been my "cup of tea" but, with how our voices blended and how well our choreography was, I didn't mind the song choice. Group day was all about teamwork and not just a question about how well you can sing. It's all about being able to overcome the pressure; it's about showing America, the judges, and everyone in American Idol that you can handle that and that your personality doesn't suck. At least, that's what I think this particular stage in Hollywood Week meant.

"We are so going to own that stage!" Blaire exclaimed, pumping her fist up in the air. She was really hyperactive, and she doesn't look like she's six years older than I am.

We all grinned at her statement; it was nice to have optimistic people around.

We were still inside the Pasadena Civic Center's grounds, in the parking lot where not many people were. Those of us who were from the day one solos were either in the theater practicing, goofing around somewhere in town, or practicing somewhere else. Everyone seem to value the surprise element that they could bring to the stage-they didn't want to let the others know what they were going to sing or what they were going to do. I didn't really think much about all of that. You can't erase the fact that, in the end, you will be judged by your singing talent and whether you can sing under pressure.

"What about clothes?" Ashley asked. "Do we have to wear matching stuff or something? Because, I didn't bring that many clothes with me."

"Oooh! We can wear those short skirts they're selling over at that store just around the corner. I went there yesterday and they were so cute and sexy." Angela said, almost squealing at the thought.

"Short skirts? As long as they come in black then I'm all good." Brittany said. Then she added, "Black is my color."

"They have that. Black, red, white, then there's the checkered black and red one." Angela said, ticking the color of the short skirts with her fingers. "Then we can, like, wear spaghetti-strapped shirts or tubes."

"I don't think..." I want to tell them that it might be a bit too much, that we shouldn't be thinking about clothes. We have to practice our vocals and our choreography.

But I seem to be the only person thinking that as Blaire immediately cut me off, "How much are they?"

"Oh, I forgot. Around thirty to forty dollars, I think." Angela said.

We were getting off track with the clothes talk. I love clothes. I love to be fashionable, but I also know that there are some more important things to discuss and do than that.

"Guys, we have to work on the song for now. We can go shop for the clothes later if we have to." I finally voiced out.

They were silent for a moment before Brittany nodded, "Lauren's right. We can't mess up. We can't forget the lyrics or sing out of tune."

Ashley, Angela, and Blaire all nodded. And that was how we returned to memorizing the lyrics of the song and getting our voices to be in harmony with one another.

* * *

><p>It was almost eight in the evening, we've gone from the parking lot to the store that Angela was talking about, to the garden, and then to the hallway. All in all, what we only managed to do was buy the short skirts for Angela, Ashley, Blaire, and Brittany (I didn't want to spend that much money for something that I probably wasn't going to wear again) and memorize the lyrics to the song. I felt frustrated that, after all that hours, we didn't manage to accomplish much.<p>

I didn't want to step up and tell them that we have to practice...I guess, I didn't want them to be mad at me and try to sabotage my chances of getting through to the next round...even though we are, sort of, sabotaging ourselves with this. I wanted to cry, but at the same time, I didn't want to let this get to me.

_I'm sure we have plenty more time to practice..._

It was what I told myself...If only it were true.

I sighed. "We should be practicing already."

Blaire raised an eyebrow at me. "We have plenty of time for that. It's only what? Seven thirty?"

"But we can't just stay up all night." I argued. I knew my mom wouldn't like it if I did. It was unhealthy. And...In a setting such as this, it pays to be healthy.

"We don't have curfews for tonight, Lauren." Angela told me. I know that she is nice, but sometimes, she just likes to remind people (mostly me ever since we got into the same group) that she was older...and I was just a minor.

"It's not healthy. If we keep stay up all night our voices might not work properly tomorrow." I told Angela.

"Lauren's right." I was surprised when Brittany sided with me once again. "I just got a message from Brandon, he's another contestant like us-and he tells me that their group's already done rehearsing and that they have the whole thing down."

Ashley made a '_Pffft_' sound and waved her hand, "Yeah, right. I bet he's just saying that."

Brittany then turned her phone around so that we could see what was on screen. It was a link to a video.

Brittany pushed a button on her phone and the video played. It was a video of Brandon-the guy whom Brittany said had asked her out-and his group mates. They were performing what would be their group number. And they were good. Really, really good.

"I don't think he's bluffing." Brittany said. "They want this, guys. _I_ want this. I don't want to be kicked out of the competition. And, I see what Lauren is saying. We can't rush practicing but we can't _not_ practice either. We have to get our voices to harmonize with one another, otherwise our number is going to suck...and no amount of optimism is going to change that."

There was another silence before Blaire stood up and flicked her hair back.

"You're right. You're both right. So, let's get on with this practicing-thing." Although she said that, she didn't sound like she really wanted to. She sounded bored.

I didn't think much of it, and I think Brittany decided to just ignore her tone or the way Ashley and Angela rolled their eyes at us. I felt what had begun as a great start for our group, was starting to not look so good.

We tried a couple of variations with our harmonies, trying to find one that would sound nice and help get us through to the next round. It was only an hour and a half later when we were interrupted, but for an entirely different reason.

"Hey, Lauren. I've been looking for you...and your friends." It was Harry, without his camera with him.

"Harry?" I was surprised. And a bit worried. I kept wondering if there was a rule that says we cannot interact in friendly terms with the crew of the show. "What are you doing here? Well, apart from the fact that you work for this show..."

Harry grinned, and I could see the others looking at us back and forth. I'm pretty sure they have seen Harry before, behind one of the cameras...although, I haven't seen or talked to him after he came over to our house...up until now.

"They're asking us to round up the contestants. Everyone's been asked to head to the theater area as soon as possible." Harry replied, taking his eyes off of me and looking at my group mates. "I think they're going to be making an announcement. Not sure what it is, though..."

"Thanks." I said. "We'll be there as soon as we're done over here."

"Uh, it's kind of important. Most of the contestants are already there. I didn't see you...or your friends, so I thought I might take a look around the area and see if I can find you and bring you and your group back." Harry said. His eyes were back on me.

I looked over at my group mates. It wasn't just my decision alone...and it kind of feels awkward standing there with Harry and with Ashley, Angela, Blaire and Brittany around us.

Brittany, who seems to have taken the role as leader, nodded. "Alright, then, let's go."

And that was that.

Harry then led us back to the theater where we saw the contestants were milling around. They looked as curious and as confused as we are. The other crew members of the show weren't saying anything either. Even Harry who kept telling me that he doesn't have any idea.

We decided to sit on the chairs and practice with our vocals. At that time, Harry was back to doing his job as a cameraman. He began to film us singing, at the end of our one-verse song, we all laughed. I didn't know what the others' reason for laughing was, but mine was that I found it funny that in that impromptu singing session we had, we sounded like we were on a road trip or something.

"It's still a little rusty." Brittany told Harry-the camera-and there was a hint that said we still need to practice.

I couldn't agree with her more.

Henry grinned and walked to the other groups, filming them as he went. We kept practicing and hoping that with every rendition, we would sound better-more in-tune with one another.

It was during those practice sessions, while waiting for whatever announcement they were going to give us, that I found myself scanning the crowd. I didn't realize what I was doing until I saw him. Scotty.

He was with two girls. I don't know what their names are, and he seems to be talking about their song or something. I'm not really sure what they're talking about since he and the two girls were standing near the stage-a long ways away from us. How I managed to spot him in the crowd, was beyond me. And I didn't even know that I was looking for him. I can't help but wonder if there's something wrong with me or if I really am just intrigued by him.

By eight-thirty in the evening, we were asked to sit down and to listen to an important announcement. They didn't ask us to be quiet, though, which is why you can still hear murmurs and some groups continuing to practice their vocals. It was a couple of minutes before nine when the executive producer of the American Idol, Ken Warick, came in and stood in front of us, with a microphone in hand-ready for whatever the announcement may be.

"Good evening, contestants." He began. "I see that most of you are already seated in groups. It seems that you all know what to expect with the next round of Hollywood Week."

There were murmurs and nods of agreement. I was among the people who nodded. For some reason, I felt nervous. It was as if I already knew that something bad-or something unexpected-was going to happen. The thought of that only made me feel queasier than I already was feeling.

"As you all know, this is the tenth season of American Idol and, by now, you all have seen some of the changes that we have implemented to the show...and you will see a lot more changes from here on out." He swallowed. "Starting now. Your group must be a mixture of day one and day two contestants."

There was a palpable silence that descended on the theatre. It was a shocked silence.

"Did...Did he just say what I think he said?" One of the contestants sitting in front of us gulped.

"Are you serious?" Came another cry.

"But what about the groups we're already in? I mean, we've already accomplished so much. Are you saying that it was all for _nothing_?" Came another outraged cry.

"This can't be happening." I heard Ashley mutter. "They're..."

But whatever Ashley was about to say, she was cut off when Mr. Warick said, "It has to be fair. Fair for all. Including the day two contestants."

Then he turned around and left. As soon as he did, there was chaos in the theatre. I guess, that's the second reason why Hollywood Week is known as 'Hell Week'...there's bound to be some form of chaos...and there was, at that moment. People were shouting, looking for contestants that were either from day one or day two. There were people raising papers saying what day they need-either day one or day two contestants, a guy or a girl. There were arguing and name calling, all because those people who were once group mates have to decide who they're going to keep and who they were going to kick out of the group.

There were also those who were already part of a group who left the group they were in, even though they were already composed of day one and day two contestants. Then there were those people who sort of took other group's members. And that pissed a _lot _of people off.

Then there was one contestant, a black, tall man, who was holding out auditions for his group. It kind of irked me that he would do that. It was like he was putting himself as the better or best one in the competition when, at that moment, all of us were on an equal playing field.

And then, there was that woman who I was sure annoyed a lot of us. I remember her name. Tiffany. And she is having a hard time getting into a group or finding group mates of her own. And I kinda know why. I mean, if you go on ahead and say what she said-during the first round of the competition, no less-you can be sure that you won't find any love from your fellow contestants.

You see, before she sang, Tiffany said: "I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm tired of seeing people try to do what I know I can."

So, you can see that when she went to our group, who was still debating on who goes and who stays, Blaire was pretty mean to her and told her to "Buzz off, sister."

She did not like that one bit...but, then again, no one likes her much either. And I somehow feel sorry for her for blowing her chance to make friends in this show.

"So, what are we going to do now?" Angela asked.

"We can do this fairly, I mean, we only need to take two people out of the group." Brittany pointed out. "We can make it sort of like a raffle, that way, there would be no hard feelings."

I nodded. "That sounds fair, but we need to hurry otherwise we might find a hard time looking for day two contestants."

Ashley and Blaire nodded and Brittany went and rummaged her bag for a piece of paper and a pen. When she finally found it, she wrote the words "Stay" on three of them and kept the other two blank, then she said, "Whoever gets the blank pieces of paper have to leave the group. Okay?"

All of us nodded, and I guess all of us also prayed that we get to stay in the group. Staying in this group was better than starting over and since three people would be staying in the group that would also mean that they didn't need to change anything...except for the two of us who are going to have to leave the group.

After Brittany had folded the paper into rolls and placed them on an empty and dry cup that we found lying on the ground, she shook the cup and then proceeded to let us draw. She told us not to read what we have drawn until after everyone has drawn a piece of paper. We complied.

A minute or so later, all of us were holding small pieces of paper.

"On the count of three." Angela said. She took a breath and counted, "One..."

_Please let this say 'Stay'…_

"Two..."

_Please, please, please..._

"Three!"

And then we read what we have drawn. Three people squealed in delight...

I was not one of them. And neither was Brittany.

"Well, I guess that's that." Brittany said with a shrug. As if it wasn't such a big loss. "Well, good luck to you guys."

And then she hugged Ashley, Angela, and Blaire who all told her the same thing-Good luck-before she walked away.

Me? I just stood there for a while before they hugged me and wished me luck and I was forced to walk away, to find my own group, and to hope that I would be able to pass this test that I found myself in.

* * *

><p>I suppose I shouldn't have felt bad about myself at that point. I suppose I shouldn't have panicked (though I did do pretty well in hiding that). It didn't take long for me to find a group. It was an "all girls" group and they were nice enough to let me join. I can't help but think that God really is watching over me; that maybe this is really the path that I should be taking; that it was meant to happen when I didn't have to look hard or look far for a group to take me in. Some people, however, were not all that lucky...and one person, in particular, made me wish that I could do something to help. But, what could I have done?<p>

Scotty. I saw him on stage, looking around for people who would take him in. Then I saw Tiffany walk on over to him. I don't really know what she said, but I'm guessing she's trying to find a group and she thought that maybe Scotty could help her out. I watched them as I listened to my group mates discuss what we were going to perform. They were having a debate and, from time to time, I offer them my thoughts. I didn't know if they noticed it, but I was distracted. Distracted by Scotty and Tiffany.

Then I saw Tiffany, doing some sort of choreography. I tried my best not to burst out laughing and look like a complete idiot when I realized what she was doing and what Scotty was making her do. She was signing for him. Auditioning _to _him. Then she went and basically begged him while she was singing, and then I saw Scotty motion for her to stop. And then he told her something. I really wish I could hear what it was he said and why Tiffany looked so smug. Of course, when Scotty didn't return to her and when he practically hid himself from her, I kind of had an idea what Scotty did...and, let me tell you, I didn't think he was mischievous like that. And I kind of like it. It was funny. Really, _really_ funny.

I didn't see Scotty McCreery after that...

When we've finally decided on the song that we were going to perform-which was "Some Kind of Wonderful, a song by the Soul Brothers Six-I once again saw Scotty. This time it was Brett who was singing for him, but he walked out on them and I couldn't help but frown at that. I couldn't really pass judgment on whether he was being a jerk or not with Brett since I didn't know what was going on, but I wondered if I was wrong about Scotty...if he wasn't as nice as I first thought he was...even though that first impression came from his smile back in the plane...which, thinking back on it, wasn't really that big of a deal. I mean, it's not enough to know whether he was actually a nice person or not.

When we were about to leave the theatre to go practice somewhere else, when my mom has finally come down from our hotel room to watch over me since it was well beyond my usual curfew, I saw Scotty one final time. He was on stage, with that black guy who was holding out the auditions before and it was his turn to sing for them...or, at least, that's what I figured he was doing. But, as soon as the first line of the song was out of his mouth-something I guessed based on how his mouth moved and how quickly he was cut off-they didn't want him on their group.

I didn't know what happened with him after that. My group had made their way to the cafeteria, where we plan to practice. But, I sure do hope that he finds a group. It would be kind of bad, and a little bit humiliating...okay, so maybe a lot more humiliating...to not get through the next round, not because of your singing but because no one wants to have you in their group.

* * *

><p>When you think that you have everything planned out, you tend to procrastinate into actually doing it. I guess, that night, that was what happened with our group. We procrastinated.<p>

Sure, we have everything planned. We knew what we were singing, how we were going to sing it, our choreography, and what to do or what we need to make it interesting. But, we didn't go out to practice as soon as we could. Nope. I guess, as teenagers, most of us want to procrastinate...badly...or do some weird things.

Take Angela (a different Angela from my previous group mate). She sort of bragged to us about this 'special' skill she has...and she told us a particular nickname she has.

"Noodle Nose." She said with a straight face.

I had to go and freeze that. "Did you just say...Noodle Nose?"

"Okay, I have this strange feeling that I shouldn't be asking you what the heck that is about." Brittany said. Yes, Brittany and I did end up being in the same group...again.

"Let's go find some noodle and I'll show you." Angela said.

And so, instead of practicing hard like all the other groups around us were doing, we were searching for noodles. After a while, we found some. I shouldn't have watched what happened next, I should have known what it was she was going to do. But, I was curious...and later, I found myself grossed out.

You see, the reason Angela has that nickname was something she showed us. She took two strands of noodles and then she put it up her nose. I thought that that was it. Noodle Nose. Okay, now I get it, and I laughed along with my other group mates as she let the noodle strands dangle there. But, when Angela began to _inhale_ the noodles, I started to feel grossed out. When she managed to inhale the whole thing and then pulled the two noodle strands out of her mouth, I was already having a hard time _not_ barfing my dinner and I immediately went to the table where my mom was seating at.

That. Was. Gross.

Super gross.

_Ugh...is that suppose to be my punishment for procrastinating?_

* * *

><p>"No rest for the wicked."<p>

That quotation rang on my head when my mom and I trudged towards the theatre hours later to meet up with my group mates for our group performance. It was another do or die time...and I do hope that my dream won't be cut short in this round.

"You better rest as soon as this round is over." My mom said. Well, it was either that or she said something like: Do you want a dress and a Land Rover?"

I knew my mom would not be asking me about a Land Rover, so I guess she was telling me to rest as soon as I can. I didn't respond to her vocally, I just nodded. That was all I could do. I was tired. Really, _really_ tired and I was conserving my energy for later. Thankfully, there were no Cameramen roaming around to catch me looking like a zombie.

It was after seven when I met my group mates and we decided to have a couple of "final" rounds of practice to polish whatever it was we came up with hours ago. We decided to go and follow the other contestants-the other groups-and practice outside.

I was feeling sleepy. And scared. And worried.

_Can we really do this?_

* * *

><p>It was already eight-thirty in the morning when we were all finally seated in the theatre. All thirty-nine groups. All remaining contestants. All of us were already beyond the point of exhaustion. We just wanted to get this over with-perform and hopefully make it through to the next round.<p>

We waited patiently and silently for the judges to arrive, and for Hollywood Week's second round to start.

When the judges did arrive, the three of them went straight to the stage. All eyes were on them and I could have sworn that I not only heard my heart thumping and beating so hard, but I could hear the others' heartbeats as well. All of us were worried now and I'm not sure about everyone but I was expecting Jennifer, Steven, or Randy to go and say something that will add another level of pressure for us. As if we're not feeling too much pressure already.

It was, however, Steven who spoke first.

"Pressure-I know nothing about. I'm addicted to adrenaline." He said while he stood there, his arm dangling on Randy's shoulders. Steven looks like he doesn't have a care in the world. "And a whole lotta other things...including wanting to hear you sing real good today..." There were a couple of people who laughed at that. "So, use your illusions, baby. Let's have at it."

I didn't really understand what he meant by 'use your illusions' but, I suppose what Steven was trying to say was to give it our best.

Jennifer spoke next.

"When you get up there and you perform...perform and don't get too caught up in the fact that...that, you know, you're in a group." She then did a little dance move but her face remained kind of neutral. "All that kind of stuff. Don't let that throw you. Because, at the end of the day, we make the cuts," then she does a cutting motion with her hand, as if the side of her hand was a sharp knife, "individually."

That got us all thinking...and somehow, I couldn't help if they actually said that to shake the foundations of the teamwork of those groups who, well, have a small amount of it. Teamwork, I mean.

And, finally, it was Randy's turn to speak. What he said, it was what Simon usually said...and it was the pressure-builder.

"And, one last thing..." he paused. "More importantly, don't _ever _forget the words."

There was that short amount of moment where you can feel the tension in the room. Where everyone seemed to have just sucked in their breaths and were holding it in. It was during that moment that I was sure we were all worried that we were going to do just that-forget the lyrics of our songs.

Even though we felt so deprived of energy, we still managed to clap our hands together as the judges walked to take their seats.

As they were walking, Randy faced us and shouted, "So, man, come on!" and that caused the cheers to erupt and the clapping to sound louder than before. I didn't get it at first, but I soon realized that the judges-they weren't trying to scare us or trying to jinx us into forgetting the words. No. What they were actually doing was...they were challenging us.

I smiled to myself when I figured that out.

I was worried, that's true.

I was scared, that's true.

I wasn't sure if I would make it through to the next round, that's true.

But...

_I accept that challenge._

* * *

><p>Finally, after so many great (and, not so great) performances from the other groups...it was our turn.<p>

Before we were called in, however, Ryan came over us and asked us what we need-if there's anything that we might need. You know, props, and that kind of thing. We actually do need something, and I was the one the group asked to say it.

"Steven." I said. My voice was kind of hoarse from the lack of sleep and from the practices.

"So, you need a rock star..." Ryan didn't sound dubious about it.

"Chair." Added Brittany.

"So you need a rock star and a chair." I noticed how Ryan was trying to force himself not to laugh, but his face was quirking into a smile.

As he was walking away, Brittany repeated what Ryan had said, "We need a rock star and a chair."

"Yep." Was all I could say. I was, once again, feeling the pressure.

Once on-stage, and once I have the microphone in hand, I didn't need any urging from my fellow team members to ask Steven for the favor that we need him to do.

"Steven, can you come up and sit in this chair, please?" I asked, giving him a smile and silently praying that he would indulge us.

"Ah..." Came Randy.

"What's gonna happen?" Steven asked. He didn't look like he was ready to stand up.

"We're gonna sing to you." I answered, still praying.

"Ah..." And then Steven got up and began to walk up the stage.

"Ah...alright!" Randy chirped, clapping his hands.

And then people followed. Everyone was clapping and Randy was hooting. Jennifer looked curious.

Once Steven was on stage and he was about to sit down, he said, "I don't know, I'm not used to this..."

And then Randy asks, "Steven, Steven...what's the name of your group?" just before the music started and we started singing our song.

Near the end of the song, as we were singing "_He's so wonderful_", Steven joined in with us and sang, "_Yes, I am". _It was pretty cool. Everyone was on their feet after that, clapping their hands and hooting. It felt good. And I was so happy that we're the only group who thought about having Steven along with us. We managed to accomplish one of our goals, which was to entertain everybody, and I'm sure Steven had a good time as well.

As Steven was walking back to his seat, he kept shouting, "Well, I am partial...I am partial."

And then came the results. The happy feeling I have in the pit of my stomach began to transform into the feeling of uncertainty. There were a lot of great singers and groups that have gone before us and were not given the pass. I was afraid that the same fate would fall on us as well.

_No, Lauren. Stop thinking like that. Stop being pessimistic._

_"Um..._That was very cute. Very cute and original idea." Jennifer said, and my heart at that point went _badump-badump-badump_. "Um...And, that makes this, you know...kinda hard. I hate to say it."

_Oh, no..._

"So, uh..." Jennifer went on to say as she looked at our list, readying herself for what was inevitable. I-and I think the rest of my group-however, couldn't ready ourselves for that. "Um..."

The pause that followed after that was the longest moment of my life. And when Jennifer said, "Lauren is the only one of you who's gonna be going through, the rest of you this is the end of the line. Congratulations, Lauren."

I was shocked.

I didn't know whether to be happy or feel sad for the others who didn't make it through.

I couldn't believe it. Every one of us sang great, I was sure of it. But, I was the only one whom they put through to the next round.

That thought, and the thought that my group mates-people whom I have begun to think as friends-were sacked. It was hard for me. And I cried. I cried as they congratulated and hugged me. I cried a mixture of happiness and sadness. I cried for myself and for them. And I didn't care how I looked, or how it looked like to others. I was genuinely heartbroken, but I told myself that I need to smile. That I do have the right to be happy, and my group mates assured me of that.

"I made it, but none of my friends did." I managed to tell Harry and the camera as soon as we exited the theatre, after the judges' verdict. I didn't know if I was smiling, or crying, or a mixture of both. My emotions were all over the place as I tried to maintain the poise that I usually have.

"It's okay." Brittany told me, smiling.

"It's really fine." Added Angela, then she looked at the camera and said, "She did awesome. We're gonna be rooting for her the whole thing through."

"She's gonna do amazing." Erica chimed in.

"We are her number one fan." Finished Angela. "We're happy that she made it through."

And those words of theirs, it made me happy and it made me smile.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

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><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

Before anything else, let me tell you that...apart from Angela (the second Angela-Noodle Nose) I don't really know who Lauren's other group mates are. I am not even sure that Lauren's group had any problems with the grouping after Mr. Warick announced the new rule to the group rounds. Those names I have there are names of actual contestants...their personalities, however, are purely fictional here in this fanfic since...well, since AI didn't actually expound on each of these people.

I know many of you are getting impatient with Lauren finally speaking to Scotty and getting the whole McLaina-thing going. I would like to ask you guys to be a little more patient still...well, at least, until the next chapter-the final Hell Week chapter. I'm not sure if I forgot anything in this particular group stage with Lauren...if I did forget anything, please remind me and I'll try to fix it...and any mistakes that I may have written...with the exception of the fictional part. XD

I'm going to try and update this fanfic again on Friday. But, that still depends on what happens from this point up to then, since things are like the Hell Week for me right now. XD

Anyways, that's that.

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	6. Hell Week, Part Three

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Ah! I'm lagging behind on the updates! I'm so sorry. Things are a bit crazy right now here in the real world. XD Had a lot of things to do, not to mention that the first draft of this chapter got deleted because of my absent-mindedness. Add that to a freaking crazy keyboard not working as it should and this is bound to happen.

Anyways, I won't prolong your wait. I'll put the rest of the "news" I have on the Post Author's Notes part. So, read on and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**End of Author's Notes**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I _really _don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

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><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter Five**

**Hollywood Week, Part Three**

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><p>I slept like the dead.<p>

That's the best way to describe the sleep that welcomed me the moment my mom led me back to our hotel room as soon as I parted with Erica, Angela, and Brittany. I didn't have time to change or to eat breakfast, even lunch. The moment I saw the bed, it felt as though it hypnotized me and I immediately went for it. Before I knew it, with my sleep-deprived mind, I was already knocked unconscious.

It was my first dreamless sleep. The first time that I didn't have a nightmare of being unable to sing when I have to. It was also the first time that I didn't have a dream about winning. It-the sleep, I mean-actually felt like the first time I ever slept in years. I guess my mom knew how tired, fatigued, and stressed I was because she didn't bother to wake me up.

It was only when I woke up hours later-when I felt my stomach grumbling in hunger and I was on my way to the cafeteria-when I remembered about Scotty. I didn't know if his group had already sung. And, if he got through to the next one or not.

I frowned. I still don't understand why I felt intrigued by him. Why I would care. I mean, it was just one smile! One! And he doesn't even know my name. He hasn't talked to me nor I to him. Why should I care if he goes through or not? Maybe I don't? Maybe, I was just curious about him-the guy who doesn't try to be flashy. The guy with the deepest voice in the competition.

_Yeah. That has to be it._

Right?

When I got to the cafeteria, I looked around, hoping to find someone who can tell me what had happened. There weren't any people around-contestant or staff-apart from the people working in the cafeteria. And I doubt they would know anything about the results or about Scotty. I could have looked harder, though. But, I was already hungry and I told my mom that I won't take long-that was the only reason why she let me go by myself. And so, I prioritized eating.

After I had eaten, I decided to go to the hotel's rooftop. I had heard a lot of contestants-even the staff-say that the view there was amazing-that the city looked beautiful at night. I have never been here to Hollywood, and so, out of curiosity and (slight) boredom, I decided to venture there. Tomorrow was going to be another big day and I wanted to at least have something to calm me down before I think of anything idol-related and stress myself out again.

Feeling the need to exercise, I decided to use the stairs instead of the elevator. That, and the fact that I don't really like riding the elevator alone, made me use the stairs as well.

I was already on the last few steps leading to the final set of staircases that leads up to the rooftop when I heard something and I stopped dead on my tracks.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a scaredy-cat. I mean, I can watch horror movies with my friends and can walk around places by myself but I do have an overactive imagination...well, sometimes. And at that moment, my overactive imagination decided to kick in.

_What was that?_ Was the first thought that came into my mind when I heard the sound, as soon as I stopped right in the middle of taking another step up the stairs.

The sound came again. I don't know how frightened I looked at that moment but the sound was almost like the sound of something scrapping against the floor. My imagination brought up several things that would cause that sound. The first was of a mangled body walking, or dragging itself. And that thought alone made me want to scream and run like the little girl that most of the contestants and the staff here think I am.

But, I didn't run. Soon, I found myself no longer transfixed in that spot. Soon the curiosity once again got the better of me, and I strained my ears to hear where that sound was coming from and what that sound is. My mind was still warring, though, about the stupidity of what I was doing.

_There's no such thing as ghosts, zombies, or..._ Said one part of my mind-the logical part.

_What if it's a killer or something? A kidnapper and that sound you're hearing is the kidnapper or killer dragging the body to hide it or take it away?_ Said the other part of my mind-the overactive imagination-part. _Remember the saying, Lauren? Curiosity kills the cat._

_Oh, come on. This place has security. I mean, the producers wouldn't want anything bad to happen to us, right?_

_What if they don't know? What if there's a breach in security? What if one of the contestants is actually a killer and he-or she-wants to take out the competition, literally?_

I had to stop there. Because, I'm sure everyone would agree that I was thinking like this was all a movie, or a book. Would you think me stupid if I tell you that I didn't listen to the what-ifs that the overactive imagination-part of me was telling me? Would you think that I was going to get myself in trouble for taking one step forward, and then another, in hopes of finding the source of the sound? Would you think me crazy for thinking all of that stuff and not having a backup plan?

Well, for my defense, I was in Hollywood. A lot of things can happen in Hollywood.

Second, I took that step and continued on my way-albeit, cautiously-because I really was curious. I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep or rest at all unless I knew what the sound was. It could just be the wind for all I know and I would be wracking my brain for an explanation for who-knows-how-long if I didn't move forward.

And third, I actually have a backup plan.

Before I took those final steps that would lead to the door that would open up to the rooftop, I called: "Hello? Is somebody up there?"

Yeah, I know. It wasn't much of a plan. And most people would think that I just blew my chances of sneaking into who or what was making the sound. But I was thinking that, it was better than just walking up there. Not that a killer would actually answer my call.

Okay...so maybe it was a _little _bit stupid and crazy.

The sound, however, stopped briefly when I called out. And then there was another set of sound. This one was a sound that I was familiar with-it was a sound of shuffling, of movement. The next thing I know I was standing there, five steps away from the top of the stairs and a boy had stood up in front of the door leading to the rooftop.

It wasn't a stranger.

Well, maybe it was. It wasn't like we have talked or if I actually knew him.

But I do know who he is...

It was Scotty.

"I, uh..." was the first thing that came out of his mouth as he began wiping his face. His face that I noticed, as I took another step up the stairs, was red and was streaked with...tears?

_He was crying? The sound that I had heard, that I mistook for a ghost, a zombie, a killer dragging a dead body, and a kidnapper dragging a live body...was actually the sound of Scotty sniffing and crying? Wait...crying? But..._

"I'm sorry." I immediately said. _Guys don't cry...it must be embarrassing for him to have someone see him like this..._

I was about to turn around and go back to my room-forget about everything I had seen tonight-until Scotty once again spoke.

"No. Um...it's alright." He had to clear his throat and turn around when he added, "Were you heading up to the rooftop?"

I nodded, then mentally face-palmed myself as I realized he couldn't see me before I answered, "I was going to but...um...I could just go back to my room and come some other time if you'd like to be alone...or something."

"It's...it's alright." Scotty said, there was a hint of laughter in his voice and I had to stop and wonder-replay my words-if I had said something funny. Or, if he was laughing at me... That made me pout a little.

Without saying another word, Scotty walked through the door and disappeared into the rooftop. I stood there wondering if I should follow him or if I should just leave him alone. My mind was telling me to give the guy some space. He obviously was crying and I know my brother hates it when people see him cry. I know that my brother, that Tyler, feels embarrassed when someone sees him cry-which is why I could guess that Scotty also feels that way.

But, my heart?

My heart was telling me to take this chance. The chance to talk to the guy that intrigued me and piqued my interest. To finally learn something about him. And to maybe even become friends with him.

_But...will he want to be friends with me?_

I looked back at the stairs leading back to the hotel rooms. The stairs leading down. I was about to follow what my mind was telling me when I suddenly remembered what Holly told me.

I remembered that it was the day that I decided to try out for cheerleading. The day that I wanted to follow Holly's footsteps and be a cheerleader like her. A member of the squad. The tryouts were still a couple of days away but I was already a little bit of a wreck. I was worried. So, so worried about the what-ifs. I wanted to join but I was scared, afraid, of what the other girls might think. Afraid that, if I do make it to the squad, they won't be friendly with me and would think that I only got in because I was Holly's cousin.

Holly noticed that something was wrong with me. Not that it was hard to notice that something was up. My mom, dad, and even Tyler have always said that I was like an open book, after all-easy to read. And so, being the older-sister figure, she asked me about it. And, I told her.

I told her that I was worried about the other girls. I was worried that I wouldn't make any friends in the squad.

She laughed when I told her that.

"Why are you laughing?" I remember asking her. "This isn't funny, Holly!"

"Sorry." Holly had said as she tried to calm her laughing fit. "It's just that...you're worried about not making friends but you're not worried that you might not even make it to the squad."

I was about to say something, I couldn't remember what it was that I was about to say, but what Holly had pointed out? It stopped me from saying whatever retort was on my lips. She was right, I realized it when she said it. And, before I knew it, I was laughing too.

When we have both calmed down and stopped laughing, Holly told me the best advice she could give me at that moment.

"You can't really know for certain whether a person would want to be friends with you or not unless you're already at that moment-at that point where you could be friends." She said oh-so-sagely. "But, you shouldn't think about whether or not they would like you before you give yourself a chance for them to like you. The best way you can go about when it comes to new meetings, new people, Lauren...is to just be yourself. People will like you for being you, and you can never get wrong with that. If they don't like you for who you are, then it's no longer your fault. But, you must always try to forge friendships with people; always take that chance at friendship, Lauren." Holly then paused, smiled at me and added, "But, knowing you. I'm pretty sure they would instantly fall in love with you. You and your personality."

That memory. That advice. It made me stop myself from walking back down.

This was one of those chances, right? A chance to make a friend while I'm in this competition? Even though we are still unsure about the future...even though I'm not sure if I am going to make it or if Scotty would make it or we both would make it...would it be worth it to make friends with him?

The answer was the step up the staircase-a step that I took. A step that, at that moment, I was thinking: _What the heck_.

When I got to the rooftop, it was bright. Brighter than I thought it would be with all the lights from the stores, the hotel, and the signs but, for some reason, it wasn't as noisy as I thought it would be. Sure I can hear the sound of the cars and the other vehicles passing by but, apart from that, there was only the wind and the sound of Scotty sniffing.

"Is it really okay if I stay here for a couple of minutes?" I asked as I walked further into the rooftop.

"Y-yeah." Scotty replied, still trying to dry his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. He was sitting beside the wall with the door that led back into the hotel.

I felt kind of bad for him...and for his shirt. I guess, that's why, without really thinking about it, I took my handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to him saying, "I think you might have a better use for this than me right now."

He looked up and I really saw how red his eyes were. _Had he been crying up here for a while now?_

"Thanks." And he took my handkerchief.

I didn't know what to do after that so I just stood there and looked around.

"You can sit down if you want, you know, Lauren Alaina."

I was surprised. Not by his invitation to sit down but-obviously-by the fact that he knows my name.

"You know my name?" I asked, I'm pretty sure he could see the surprise on my face at that instant.

He looked at me, all so serious, before he chuckled. "Yes. I heard you singing with your group earlier today...you were pretty good. And I think Steven had a fun time up there."

"Oh...yeah, right." And then I clammed up, the thought that I was the only one in the group to make it through-even though I sort of have the others' blessings-it still doesn't sit well with me a bit.

Scotty also looked sober at that point. I then decided to take him on his invitation and sat on the other side of the door, adjacent to him, leaning on the wall.

"I'm sorry, I can't really say anything about your group performance. I was asleep, in my room with my mom." I didn't know why I needed to tell him that. I guess I just didn't want an awkward silence to fall unto us.

"It's alright. I don't actually want to remember group day..." He said, burying his head on his hand.

"Don't tell me you didn't make it through because I really thought you were good. I mean, I've heard you sing before, you know, during the solo round...that's why I also know you're name. Scotty, right?" I said, I was talking too fast as I always do when I'm nervous and fidgety.

"No. I made it. I mean, the whole group made it...it's just that..." Scotty said with that deep voice of his, "It's just that how it came to that point, I don't really like how it all got there, you know. For a couple of hours, I forgot who I was. I forgot how to treat others, and that's kind of...kind of frustrating for me."

"I guess that's why they also call this Hell Week, right?" I asked. "I mean, not just because of the stress that they're putting us through...they also want to see who we really are. How he treat people and how we react. How we make things right. I'm not really sure what it was that happened for you, Scotty, but you shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

He looked at me and smiled. It was a small smile.

"Wow, I never thought you would be giving me advice. You're what? Fifteen?"

"So what if I am?" I asked, I don't really like it when people point out that I'm 'too young'. "Besides, I didn't really think I'd find you up here in need of an advice. I mean, you look so mature and well, not the type of guy who would want someone to be up here with him when he's been crying."

"Ah," Scotty said, as I put a hand over my mouth. I didn't mean to say it like that, or to point out that he is crying and he is a guy and guys don't normally cry like how he was doing. Not that I actually said it like that. "I actually, uh, didn't mean it to sound like that."

"Yeah," I said, smiling meekly. "Me too. I'm sorry, Scotty. I mean, I didn't come up here to tease you about you crying...I didn't even come here to tease you at all."

Scotty said with a shrug: "So, what did you came up here for?"

"I heard the view was great." I answered his question.

I saw Scotty look around, without even bothering to stand up. Then he shrugged. "Who told you that?"

"People." I answered. "No one told me personally. I just sort of heard it from earlier today when people were talking about their group practices."

And do you know what Scotty did when I said that? He. Laughed. He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. If there was a joke there, in what I have just said, then please, someone, tell me what it is because I have no idea why he is laughing or what he is laughing at.

After a while-because he _did _laugh for a long while-Scotty used my handkerchief again to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Thanks." Scotty said as he stood up and took a deep breath.

"For what?" I asked.

"For keeping me company. And, for making me laugh. I needed that." He replied. "You're not bad, Lauren Alaina."

"I can't say I knew why you were laughing because I honestly don't." I told him as I also stood up. I didn't want him to be the only one standing and to be looking down at me-literally. "But, you're not bad yourself, Scotty McCreery."

And then he grinned. "The next time you want to know about places with a beautiful view, ask me. I know a couple and, although the lights up here may seem pretty, it's nothing compared to some of the places that I do know about."

"Is that supposed to be an invitation?" I asked. Was I flirting with him? Nope. Absolutely not. I think...

Scotty shrugged. "As payback. Maybe." And then he looked at his watch and said, "Well, it's getting late...we still have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

I didn't have a watch of my own to see what time it was, but he was right. We still have the last round of Hollywood Week to go through.

"You're right." I said.

And then he folded my handkerchief, waved it and said, "I'll ask the drycleaners to wash it up before I return it. Do you mind?"

"No. And you don't need to do that." I said.

"Are you sure?" Scotty asked, in the process of handing me back my handkerchief. "I mean, I feel bad about using it..."

"I'm sure. I can just wash it myself. It's no big deal."

He stood there thinking for a while before he finally conceded and handed me back my handkerchief.

"Thank you again, Lauren." He said. And there was so much kindness, and gratitude in his words that all I could do was nod. He turned his back and then began to walk towards the door and down the staircase. But before he vanished completely from my view, he said, "And, Good night. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, Good night to you, too. And, see you tomorrow!" I called back, my hands still clutching the handkerchief that was wet with Scotty's tears.

* * *

><p>"What took you so long, Lauren?" My mom asked the moment I opened the door to our hotel room.<p>

When Scotty left, I didn't leave the rooftop as quickly as I should have. I just stayed there wondering about...stuff. You know, like what had just happened; what was that invitation about the beautiful view supposed to be? And where did I get the nerve to hand him my handkerchief and to tell him that it was alright that I would be the one washing it, that he didn't need to have it dry-cleaned? I did not know the answers to those questions.

"I took a little look at the rooftop." I replied. I plan to be honest with my mom. "I was curious about what they were saying was a beautiful view."

"And?" My mom asked, wanting to learn more.

"And, it wasn't bad, but it wasn't that good either. I mean, there wasn't anything spectacular about it." I answered with a shrug. "Apart from the lights."

"Lauren, you're not telling me everything."

I looked at my mom. She wasn't exactly mad and I wasn't exactly giving her a reason to be mad at me.

"I had a talk with another contestant up on the rooftop." I answered, sitting down on my bed. The front pocket of my jeans bulging with the wet handkerchief. "I sort of made friends with him...I think."

"Him?"

"Yeah, Scotty McCreery. You know the guy with the deep, country voice?" I answered.

"Oh, he seems like a good kid." My mom nodded. "And what did you two talk about?"

"Mom? What is this? Some kind of interrogation?" I asked, laughing a little bit. My mom always liked to talk to me like this, especially when it concerns boys. "He was feeling bad about something, so I just kept him company and talked about the competition."

Another nod from my mom. There was a minute or so of silence before she stood up from her bed and then said, "Well, it's getting late, Lauren. You better go and sleep. You have another long day tomorrow."

"I know, mom." I said with a smile as I readied myself to bed.

A couple of minutes later, I was already in my pajamas and in my bed. Before my mom turned off the lights, I whispered her goodnight, and she whispered it back to me. And, before I knew it, I fell asleep.

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><p>I am not much of a morning person.<p>

My mom knows that. My brother, Tyler, knows that too. Even my dad understands how I do _not_ like being woken up so early in the morning. Which is why I don't like camps that much since you're required to wake up early. And, although I have been here in Hollywood for almost a week now, I have yet to get used to waking up so dang early.

It was five-thirty in the morning. Five. Freaking. Thirty. In. The. Morning.

That was the time when my mom shook me awake. Six hours since I have fallen asleep. Six hours and thirty minutes since I had a chance to talk with Scotty up on the rooftop.

"It's time for breakfast." She said as she shook me awake. "Up and at 'em, Lauren. You don't want to be the last one to wake up and not be able to eat breakfast, do you?"

My response was an unintelligible "Mmrgh..." coupled with me grabbing a pillow and placing it on top of my head.

Even though I had plenty of time to sleep yesterday, I still feel so tired. So fatigued. And stressed. It was like the amount of sleep I have had yesterday wasn't enough.

"Come on, Lauren." My mom nudged me again before she took the pillow away. "You still have the final solo for Hollywood week."

The thought of singing one more time before finally learning whether I make it or not got me awake. Hearing those words was like being doused with ice-cold water from some lake in Antarctica. That was why, ten minutes after my mom said those words, I was downstairs-with the rest of the contestants-eating breakfast with one nub of my earphone on my ear and the song that I was going to sing playing on my iPod.

Was I nervous? You bet'cha.

Was I hungry? Yes, hungrier than I thought I was even. And so, when Scotty and his mother went and sat at the table next to where my mom and I was sitting, I knew he could hear me whimper in pathetic delight as I took a bite of the most delicious Mac N' Cheese I have ever tasted. And, when Scotty looked over at me and smiled a knowing smile-and when I realized the sounds I was making while eating-I blushed like I have never blushed before. I had just embarrassed myself without thinking.

* * *

><p>A quarter before seven, the officials of the show came to gather us into the auditorium again. The other contestants tried to squeeze enough time for the last minute preparations, all of us hoping that what we have done for this final round of Hollywood Week would be enough. I saw the pale looks on most of the contestants' faces. I saw how much scared and worried they are of what was to come.<p>

But, even if we were all feeling that way and no matter what we may be doing to ease the tension, there was one thing we all have in common: the fire. That burning fire that you can see in our eyes. The fire that says we want this and we're going to give it all that we have to get through this round.

And then, Ryan and the producers have asked us to sit as they open up the final round.

There was the countdown as Ryan got pampered up while on stage. The lights were turned on and the microphones were tested. The band began tinkering with the instruments to make sure that they were all working and that there would be no technical problems.

And then, Ryan Seacrest was handed the microphone. We all knew what was going to come next as Ryan began his monologue, walking on the stage.

"They've survived the week and gotten to _this _ point so it's time to raise the stakes." Ryan said and I heard a couple of my fellow contestants take in a deep breath. "Today the contestants will sing with Michael there on keyboard," He gestured towards the man called Michael and the keyboard, "background singers," He gestured to them, too-three of them, actually, "they could use the base and drums, or they could choose to sing acapella."

As Ryan Seacrest said those words, I wondered if what I was going to do really would be enough.

But, Ryan wasn't done talking, he went on to say: "But, it's one final shot on the final day of Hollywood Week."

Ah, yes. The pressure builder. You can trust Ryan to say something like that that would definitely add pressure to us poor souls already on the breaking point.

As soon as Ryan had finished with his little opening dialogue, the third round started and was opened up with this girl-Haley Reinhart, and when she sang, I was blown away. She was good, and the judges thought so, too. Then came Ashton Jones, another girl that also fared well with the judges. Then Thia Megia. And as one after the other, they sang with powerful voices, I began to question my chances of getting through.

No one was holding back.

No one wanted to settle with less than their best.

And, before long, I found myself being suffocated with pressure and the nerves. I knew that if I stayed there and watch these people sing one after the other, I would probably lose it and throw-up. I did not want that to happen. And so, I excused myself, telling my mom that I needed to warm up my vocal chords when-the truth was-I wanted air.

As I left the theatre, I could feel the hairs at the back of my neck standing up and felt that someone was looking at me. When I turned to look back, however, I didn't see anyone looking at me or following me, and so I just chucked it up on the nerves and me being paranoid about everything.

I didn't know how long I was out. I didn't know how many people had sung as I stood there at the dressing room, looking at myself in the mirror while trying to control my heart rate. But, before I knew it, I could hear the producers calling my name.

And so, I began prepping my hair back up, making sure that I would be able to pass the "Star Quality" department. As I was going on with that, Harry came up to the dressing room, camera on hand and began to film me.

"Don't you think that that's a little bit rude?" I asked. I couldn't help wondering about that little what-if scenario of a cameraman suddenly bursting into the room while I was changing or something, adding another item to the list of embarrassing things that could happen to me during this whole competition.

"Relax. I knew you weren't changing." Was his reply, which did not help soothe my nerves. I mean, how would he _know _that?

But, of course, I wasn't able to ask that question because one of the stage managers came up and told me that it was my turn already.

* * *

><p>Have you ever had that mini-heart attack moment? You know, that feeling you get when you thought you lost your phone or your money? That little moment of panic that creeps into you making your brain feel numb and making your mind go blank, and making you go: Oh no, oh no, oh no?<p>

Well, that was what I was feeling as I took the microphone and walked to the middle of the stage. I might be giving them what I hoped was a ten-thousand watt smile, but inside I was panicking and having my mini-heart attack moment.

The song I was going to sing was hard...albeit fun for me. I knew what the stakes were and I knew that this song may backfire on me. But, when the judges asked me what I was going to sing, my voice sounded confident as I told them that I was going to sing "I Don't Want To Miss a Thing".

And you have no idea the relief I felt when I finally got that song off of my chest, and when I saw Steven smiling and heard Randy say, "Well done, well done. Thank you very much."

What I said? The "Thank You" that came out of my mouth that morning? Well, I meant it. I really did. Because I was thankful with more than just being able to sing that song and being there. I was also thankful that my turn was done.

I didn't look back as I skipped my way off of the stage and into the arms of my mother who was smiling and looking at me with that proud look on her face. Need I say how happy I was?

* * *

><p>Once again, I didn't know what happened to the other contestants after that. I knew that Scotty was still there waiting for his chance to sing, but we couldn't go back to watch. Those of us who had sung our piece had to go and wait at the second floor lounge.<p>

Hours went by and before I knew it, it was almost six in the evening. I wasn't actually looking for him, or waiting for him, but I knew that Scotty wasn't around. It was only after an hour later, after we were given our dinners on Styrofoam containers, did Scotty emerged in the holding room. HIs head was bent low and I knew, from the serious look on his face-not to mention the crease on his brow-that it did not go well. A cameraman trailed behind him.

As our seats were numbered, I couldn't really wave at Scotty and motion for him to sit beside me. And so, I just watched as he took that seat two rows behind me. I saw the cameraman ask him a question, but I couldn't hear what it was nor what he answered to it. The sound of the other contestants, who were chatting, waiting for whatever came next, blocked any chances for me to hear what Scotty and the cameraman are talking about.

When we were done eating, one of the stage crews asked us-all one hundred of us-to wait patiently. As if we weren't waiting for the past couple of hours. Most of us were already beyond the normal limits of fatigue and stress. Some of us were feeling the weight of hopelessness sink in. And so, we all did what we could do at that moment as we sat and await the judges as they deliberated amongst themselves-we prayed.

And prayed.

And waited.

And prayed and waited some more.

"What is taking those judges so long?" I heard one girl behind me say. "Are they really still deliberating or are they just torturing us by making us wait and see what kind of drama will unfold from it?"

"Well, it's not like its easy-picking or something." A guy, the person the girl was talking to said. "I mean, come on. There's a lot of talent here. Plenty of amazing people with amazing vocals, they can't just rush with their decision."

I couldn't help but silently agreeing with the guy. I didn't know who was talking since I didn't take a look.

"Well, let's just hope that they don't mess it up for us." the girl said.

The guy and the girl kept on talking for a while. For some reason, the girl's voice sounded familiar. It was like I have heard her speak before but I couldn't really place a finger on who it was.

A couple more minutes went by and the girl and the guy kept on talking. Soon I grew bored at listening in on their discussion. I was about to drift into a nap when one of the officials of the show, holding a clipboard called for our attention.

"Alright, people. When I call your name, please take your stuff and go to room number one." He said.

_This is it. _

"Chris Medina." The first name was called. Followed by another name and another.

As the names were called and the room numbers given, I found my heart beating like a drum and I had to remind myself to breathe. This was really it, the moment of truth-sort of.

Names after names after names, I listened intently for my name to be called. For them to tell me what room I would be awaiting the verdict in. For me to see who I would be with in that room. For me to know my fate in this competition.

* * *

><p>Room One.<p>

That was the room I was ushered in. Jaycee Badough, Hayley Reinhart, Brett Lowenstern, Pia Tuscano, Chris Medina, Jacob Lusk, Casey Abrams, James Durbin, and Ashley Sullivan-they were some of the people I recognized in that room with me. And as we joined hands and prayed while waiting for the judges to come to our room and deliver us the good or the bad news, I couldn't help but wonder what fate has in store for all of us.

Eleven O'clock in the evening. The clock seemed to be ticking slowly as if it taunting us. I couldn't help but glare at every single watch that catches my eyes.

Several minutes later, we heard hurried movements outside, and then muffled voices-really, really muffled voices. And, when we started hearing people scurrying around outside, we knew that the judges were coming.

But, even though we knew they were coming and we could have had time to make ourselves look calm and collected, we didn't-or maybe I should say that we couldn't. That moment, when Jennifer, Steven, and Randy stepped into our room, time seemed to stop for us and we all took a collective intake of breath.

Some of us were muttering prayers under our breaths as the judges began to speak. Others were muttering "Please, please, please" over and over again like a mantra of some sort. But we knew, at this point, no amount of begging can change the judges' minds.

"Hi, guys." Jennifer greeted us and smiled a little.

"What's up?" Added Randy.

Even though they sounded nice and friendly, I could see the seriousness of whatever decision they have come up with. I guess we were all trying to find something that would give us a clue on what our fate was before they could say anything more than just a greeting, but we couldn't find anything.

"You know this is the, uh, hard part." Jennifer went on to say.

"There are a lot of up and down performances 'cuz, you know, you guys-" Randy was saying, but whatever he has to say was lost when Jennifer cut in.

"That made, that made it tough, too." She said, and I had to force my mind to listen and not go into panic-mode right then and there while I also wondered why Steven wasn't saying anything-why his lips seemed to be sealed.

"I have been here nine seasons," Randy went on, not minding that Jennifer seems to be stealing his show. "This is the most talented group, I think, we've ever had."

I gulped when Randy said those words, and I heard this guy-a guy that reminds me of that villain in _The Incredibles_, but is wearing glasses-say, "Oh my God."

I didn't know if he was invoking God's presence for all of us or not, but I sure could use some divine intervention right then as I felt that things were going to be bad. My pessimistic side was, once again, rearing its ugly head.

"So, with that being said, it's my job to tell you," Jennifer said, then paused for a short while, "that," another pause and I couldn't help but look at the faces of the people around me-the pale faces with wide eyes and mouths hanging open, anticipating what the judges-what Jennifer was about to say. "Everyone in this room," another pause and I knew that the next set of words is the words that will seal our fate. I could hear the ragged breaths of all those close to me and I squeezed the hand of the contestant that was beside me-Pia, I remember that that was her name. She squeezed my hand back.

Jennifer waited a little while before she continued speaking, and by the time she spoke, I thought that I was going to faint. But, the words that she said next. Those words caused every one of us to scream, to jump up and down, to hug each other and even hug the judges. For what she said was, "Everyone in this room is going on to the next round".

At that moment, it didn't seem like we were all rivals. At that moment, it seemed like we were survivors stranded on a deserted island who had just heard that help was on the way. At that moment, as I hugged Pia and congratulated her and she hugged me back and congratulated me, too-at that moment when I told her that I couldn't wait to tell my mom-it felt like we were all friends.

_Huh, who would have thought that?_

People may think that we were sort of inconsiderate for all the others who were still waiting, but we really couldn't help it if the sounds we were making-our celebration-was like that: loud. I mean, we just survived the brutality of Hollywood Week. That is something to celebrate about. We are one step closer to the live shows.

I would be lying if I said that I was thinking of Scotty at that point, because I wasn't. I honestly forgot about him in the midst of the celebration, and I don't think you can blame me for that. I can't even blame myself for not thinking of him. I mean, I think we're in the middle of being acquaintances and friends, but nothing more.

When we were finally allowed out of the room, and were finally allowed to meet the other group who would be going through, I didn't know what to expect. And it was only at that moment that I began to wonder what had become of Scotty.

When one of the crew told us to "Go on ahead and meet the others who made it through.", the people I was with in Room One all ran out and I followed them just for the fun of it. But, even as I hugged and exchanged congratulations with the other contestants who will be going on to the next round with us, and even as I saw Harry giving me a thumbs-up as I moved through the crowd, I didn't realize what it was that I was doing until I saw him.

I was searching for him. For Scotty.

And, when I finally saw him-not running-but walking and shaking hands with the other contestants who got through as well; when I saw that smile on his face and how his whole body seemed relaxed, I couldn't help but stop dead on my tracks.

Before I knew it, I was staring at him with a goofy look on my face-a look that he caught me with when he finally looked up to my direction and met my gaze. And he smiled even brightly when he saw me.

I smiled back, even as my heart was beating and I was feeling strange. I didn't let my smile falter as he moved through the crowd and stood right in front of me.

"So, we both made it." I said and was surprised that my voice didn't sound as shaky as I felt.

"I guess we did." He grinned as he said those words.

And then he did what no guy has ever done to me before-well, other than my cousins, my brother, and my father-he hugged me. He hugged me so tight as he whispered "Congratulations" in my ear.

That made me shiver inside.

Not wanting to feel like a complete idiot and seem snobby, I hugged him back. Not that I didn't like the way his body felt warm against mine. Wait, I didn't mean to say that! I meant that it just felt good being hugged like that. I mean, I'm not saying I liked Scotty hugging me, I just...well, like the whole concept of giving someone a hug. Yeah, that's right! The concept of giving someone a hug.

A-Anyways, after that time-stopping, noise-barring, weird-heart-rate-inducing hug that Scotty gave me, I heard Randy's voice. He was giving an announcement of some kind.

I looked up at Scotty and saw that he was looking at Randy and the other judges, and when I looked around I saw that I was the only one who seems to have _not _heard what the judges have said.

But, whatever it was that they said, it caused everyone's jaw to drop.

I didn't know what it was back then, but judging from the looks on my fellow contestants' faces, it was something big-something none of us expected.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

*Phew*

This has to be the longest chapter that we have thus far. I have to say that I enjoyed writing this part, although I found it really hard as the names of the other lesser known contestants eluded me. Now, I hope you guys are a bit happy with the few McLaina moments I have written in this part of the story.

Now, if you have visited my blog or my FFN profile, you would know that I'm holding a poll regarding writing another fanfiction to sort of tie-up with this one. That fanfiction is actually just this fanfiction written in Scotty's Point of View. Now, I'm still debating on whether or not I should write it at this point-you know, sort of like working on it side by side with this one or not. That's why I decided on to make that poll and see if you guys want to read the Idol Journey with Scotty's POV to partner-up with this story. Just vote and let me know, it could help with my decision. You can even comment through reviews on what your thoughts about that (and about this chapter).

What else? Hmm...

Well, this basically ends the Hollywood Week "arc" of this fanfic. Next up is the Las Vegas Round...which would, probably, be two chapters long-because I plan to add something to it. XD

Anyways, that's that.

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

_P.S_

_I'm quite sorry if there are any typos, my keyboard is being an idiot and I couldn't check the whole thing. If you find any mistakes in this chapter, please notify me and I will change it accordingly. Thanks!_

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	7. What Happens In Vegas, Part One

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

A little bit of note to you guys, this chapter is a short one.

I'm sorry for that. I'm currently working on getting a book published and that has been taking quite a bit of my time-which is also why this chapter was delayed. Of course, I don't plan on abandoning this little baby, and there's still that Scotty POV story that would tie up with this to work with.

So, I thank you guys for the patience you have with this fanfic, and I hope that you would like this chapter.

**End of Author's Notes**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I _really _don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter Five**

**What Happened In Vegas…**

**Part One**

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><p>I didn't stop running. I couldn't. Even when Scotty was calling my name. Even when I knew it wouldn't look good on my record, I couldn't stop. Tears were streaming down my eyes. The promise of not crying, not showing any sign of weakness—of being much younger than the others—was lost.<p>

I was beginning to crumble. The pressure was getting to me. What strength and solace I found in making it through the dreaded Hell Week—it didn't seem to matter then and there.

When I almost bumped at Harry, who was filming me as I cried and ran away, I couldn't help but sobbing louder and hiding my face. Harry was supposed to be my friend, right? Why is he filming me in what—at that point—was the lowest moment of my life? I didn't really know and I didn't bother to ask as I ducked past him—past everyone…

I didn't think that I would question why I decided to join this competition after I had made it through the most grueling week. That was…until just a couple of minutes ago.

But, maybe I am getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind things a bit and start at the very begin of when things started to get a little bit chaotic for me—the night I learned I had made it through Hollywood Week.

* * *

><p>There was screaming and people hugging and jumping up and down in exuberance. It doesn't matter if we actually knew each other or not, or even if we thought the other person was a friend or a rival. What did matter, at that time, was that we had made it through.<p>

But, in the midst of the celebration, and in the midst of my embrace with Scotty, Randy decided to cut that short as he waved his hand and said, "Hey! Time out! Time out!"

Everyone stopped whatever it was that they were doing, which included Scotty who had dropped his hands back to his side. Of course, I—being surprised by his hug and by how comfortable it felt—didn't know what was happening until Randy went on with his little speech.

"We got a little announcement to make." He paused to make sure that all of us had heard what he had said thus far. "Your numbers are so big this year that we decided to add another round to the competition."

There was a stunned silence as those words sank in. Everyone's jaws were dropped—even mine.

_What could this new round possibly be? Are they going to make it even harder for us?_

"You are now all going tomorrow to Vegas for Beatles night!" Randy's voice rose with each word that came out of his mouth that, by the time he said the word 'night' it was like he was at the middle point between his shouting and indoor voice.

Of course, when we heard where we were going, the thought that it was for another round of the competition before we could finally know if we made it to the Top 24 and the live shows, wasn't the least of our concerns. As the screams once again erupted and people started jumping up and down again, everyone's thoughts were on going to Vegas. Las Vegas. Everyone was so excited, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't as excited as they were. Even Jennifer and Steven were smiling and laughing along with us. Who knew that that would be the beginning of the toughest challenge for us in the whole competition? I certainly didn't.

* * *

><p>It was roughly twenty minutes after the whole shouting, screaming, jumping up and down, and dancing scenario that we found ourselves in and five minutes after the judges informed us that we could now form duos or trios for the next round when Scotty once again decided to talk to me. After that whole hugging-thing, neither of us spoke to the other. Not because we both felt awkward or something…well, I'm not sure about him but I didn't feel awkward at all. Just confused, I guess.<p>

Anyways, Scotty came up to me and said, "So, The Beatles and Las Vegas. Who would have thought, huh?"

I turned to face him and smiled, "Actually, I was thinking more on the lines of: who would have thought I—we—would make it through Hollywood Week?"

"Yeah, that, too." He laughed. "I thought I was going to get cut for sure."

I nodded and told him that I felt the same way. I think we all did.

Scotty was silent for a while and he looked as though there was something that was bothering him. I didn't know how I could tell that. I mean, this would only be the second time that we have spoken with each other but it felt as though I was beginning to be able to read what was on his face.

I was about to ask him if there was something wrong when this girl—a short, black girl with curly black hair—suddenly walked towards us. I have seen her before but I didn't know what her name was and judging from the questioning look on Scotty's face, I think he didn't know her too. The point was, I was surprised when she suddenly spoke to us.

"So, are you guys going be partners for the duet or can you squeeze a third girl in?" She asked.

At first, I thought: _Duet? With Scotty?_

And then I looked at Scotty and wondered if that was what he was going to say to me. I didn't know what to say to this girl—whose name I didn't know at that time—and so I just looked at Scotty, hoping that he would be the one to answer her question.

"I was going to ask Lauren if she wanted to sing with me," Scotty admitted. Although I was hoping for it, or maybe even expecting it, I was surprised when he said it nonetheless. "but a trio isn't so bad. I think." Then he looked at me and asked, "What do you think? Can we be a group?"

I wasn't really speechless, but all I remembered doing at that time was nodding. It was then that girl introduced herself as Denise Jackson.

* * *

><p>"Alright, people, listen up!" A woman with curly, blond hair said, clapping her hands to get everybody's attention.<p>

After we've divided ourselves into duos and trios, they asked us to remain in the waiting room for further announcements. It has been two hours since we all learned that we made it through the Hollywood rounds and I still haven't been able to share the news with my mom and the rest of my family. I couldn't help but beat myself over the fact that, of all the days I could have forgotten to bring my phone with me—that would be one of them.

Everyone in the waiting room stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on the woman holding the microphone and oozing with authority.

"This time around, we aren't handing you a long list of songs that you will be performing," the woman went on, "what song you, and your group, will be performing, will depend on what you would draw from this box here. There would be three songs to choose from on the list that you will draw."

It didn't sound so bad, but somehow, I didn't like the thought that our song choice would all depend on the luck of the person who was going to draw it.

Of course, that wasn't enough as the woman went on to say, "And there will be no changing of songs lists. There will be no exchanging of songs lists, no second chances."

There was a murmur in the room and I couldn't help but wonder if they felt the same as I did—that it was a little bit unfair.

"Now, when you are all ready, please form a line so we can begin."

No one stood up immediately. I think all of the groups were wondering who in their group had the most luck—who is that person whom lady luck was smiling at, at that moment?

"So, who's it going to be?" Denise asked.

Even though she was the one who asked it, I could see it in her eyes. I could see that she wanted to be the one to pick.

I don't want to sound conceited or even "evil", but there was something about Denise Jackson that doesn't sit well with me. I couldn't pinpoint what it was and I didn't want to seem like I was stereotyping her. So, I just kept my opinions to myself.

I think Scotty must have noticed it, too. Or, he didn't want to be blamed for messing up with the "lucky draw"—which is _my_ reason.

I guess, that's why he said, "Why don't you do it, Denise?"

That made her happy and she flashed us a smile before saying, "Hmm, if you both don't mind."

"We don't." I said.

And that was enough for Denise to stand up and walk to the end of the line.

And, that was also how I ended sitting alone with Scotty in that part of the room.

"So, Vegas…" I was the first one to speak.

He nodded, repeating my words, "Vegas."

"Do you think our group will work?" I asked, slightly fidgeting. For the first time, I didn't feel like running around or doing something crazy. I wanted to start practicing. I didn't want a repeat of the previous group round.

I caught a glimpse of Scotty's thoughtful expression. The seriousness that was once again etched at his face and I remembered that I wasn't the only one who had felt the "hell" in group round. I still didn't know what had happened in his group and, even though I was curious, I couldn't bring myself to ask him. Whatever it was that had made him cry up on the rooftop…well, I would rather wait for him to tell me about it or watch what it was when they finally air this on TV—that is, if the drama on their group doesn't get cut by the producers.

"We have to make it work." Was the answer he gave me after a while.

I looked over at the line of people. Denise was still a bit far from the box that would hold our fate—well, part of it, at least.

"Well, I hope it doesn't turn out like last time. I mean, I hope it does, you know, with us getting through to the next round—all of us. I don't think I'd like to be the only one who gets to go through to the next round." I blabbed.

"You're still hanged up about that?" He asked and I wanted to ask him if he was still hanged up about the drama from his previous group as well, but instead, I kept my mouth shut and pondered on his question a bit.

But, I didn't get to answer his question because he shook his head and said, "Of course you are. We all are."

Looking around the room, I could see how he can say something like that. There was a palpable tension in the room, and I knew the reason why.

* * *

><p>As soon as we got our list, the producers and the officials of the show allowed us to go back to our rooms to pack and get some rest. They told us that we would be leaving early tomorrow to head to Las Vegas and that we shouldn't be late.<p>

When I got back to my room, I was so tired that when I told my mom that I made it through and that we would be heading to Vegas next, it came out more like a grunt—much like how most of my answers to her questions came out.

I was so tired to pack my own bags that my mom had to do the packing for me. I didn't really know the exact time I fell asleep, but I am sure that it was the moment my head hit the pillow.

* * *

><p>We were all tired. Really, <em>really<em> tired.

But, even so, there was an energy of excitement in the air. It's not hard to guess that all of us were thrilled of going to Vegas to perform. But, amidst that excitement was also that foreboding feeling that Vegas round might be the last round for some of us in this competition. That Vegas could be the place where it all ends.

"Hey, girl friend!" Denise bounded up to me, full of energy and a smile that made me wonder how she could be so energetic so early in the morning.

"Hi, Denise." was my reply as I stifled a yawn.

_Five hours of sleep is not enough. I can't wait to go back home and rest._

"So, where's Scotty?" She asked as she looked around the others who were already pilling up on the busses that were going to take us to Las Vegas.

"I haven't seen him yet." I answered as I watched my mom and the other guardians and chaperone boarded another bus—a separate bus—that would take them to Las Vegas as well.

"Huh…" was all Denise could say as she shrugged. "Well, anyways, I was thinking that we should all sit close together, you know, and study those three songs on our list."

_The list. _

It wasn't hard to remember what the songs there were: Hello, Goodbye; If I Fell, and Blackbird.

I know the Beatles, I do. And I knew that this was what this round has in-stored for us—Beatles song. But, even though I knew who they are and have heard some of their famous songs, I didn't really know anything else. Humiliating as it may be to admit, none of the songs on that list was familiar to me.

But, even if I could admit it now, at that time, I felt embarrassed to say that I didn't know the songs. I mean, they're Beatles songs. They should be known to all, right?

It was ten minutes later when Scotty finally showed himself to us. He was wearing a blue, long-sleeved, button-up shirt and a pair of jeans. It was like, all you have to do is give him a pair of cowboy boots, cowboy hat, and a horse and he would really look the part.

Of course, he isn't like a cowboy—at least, not really. He's a southern gentleman, that's for sure but I can't really imagine him as a cowboy.

"What's wrong? Is there something on my shirt?" He asked when he caught me staring at him.

I was surprised. I mean, I didn't mean to stare at him, nor to get caught by him as I looked. Thankfully, I didn't blush and I managed to answer him.

"Oh, no." I remember saying, "I-It's nothing, I was just thinking that…" I paused. I didn't know what lie to say but then I caught a glimpse of the necklace that hangs around his neck. "…that pendant. It's a crucifix, right? I noticed you've been wearing that since that time in the plane. Not that I was looking or anything, it's just…I don't know."

He looked down at the necklace and fingered the cross that was hanging there. It was the silver cross and as soon as I said those words, I knew that it wasn't exactly a lie.

"Oh, this?" He asked, thumbing the silver cross. "Yeah. "

He didn't say anything else. He didn't even bother to explain why…but, then again, maybe I shouldn't have asked him why, or even expected that of him. Maybe, I should have known the answer myself.

* * *

><p>The bus ride was long, but it wasn't really dull.<p>

Some of those who rode with us immediately went back to sleep, their earphones blocking the sound from the outside world as their iPods played. Others had their iPhones or iPads with them, listening to the songs that were on their list while discussing the pros and cons of performing this or that. There are also those who, instead of worrying about what this new round was going to bring, was instead chatting away and eating whatever snack they have packed for the ride to Vegas.

Denise was among those people who were playing with their iPods while chatting and eating at the same time. Scotty, on the other hand, wasn't wearing an earphone or earbuds in his ears, but his eyes were closed.

Me? Well, I was just observing as I tinkered with my own iPod.

Scotty was sitting on my left, across the aisle, while Denise sat on my right—hogging the view of the world outside. Harry was also with us on the bus, filming what it was we were doing.

"Hey, Lauren, wave at the camera!" He called on one occasion.

Instead of waving though, I made a sort of funny face. It was partly to look funny while also partly to ease the tension on my nerves that was already building.

We were already half-way to Vegas when Harry finally set his camera down and another cameraman took the job from there. As soon as he was off, he walked towards me ad sat in the middle of the aisle, blocking my view of Scotty, whose eyes were still closed that I wondered if he was sleeping and that maybe I should sleep as well.

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Harry said, it was the same thought that had crossed my mind.

"None yet." I answered with a smile.

I noticed that no one minded us or, if they did, they didn't show it. But, I found it impossible that no one would be wondering why this cameraman was being friendly with me, or if that is even allowed—you know, talking with contestants if you're part of the crew.

"So, any great footage?" I asked, motioning to his camera, which was sitting by his side.

He thought for a moment before he finally nodded. "A couple. Hollywood Week's really where the juice is. So much drama. I bet people are going to be entertained with this season…and we're gonna need that…after all, Simon's no longer around."

I nodded, that was true. There were a lot of talks on what the show would be like without him…and if it would be as great a show as before.

"Don't go adding any embarrassing footages on there." I told him, half-joking while also silently pleading that he would take it seriously.

Harry laughed. "I don't really have much control over that. I'm just a cameraman."

"Then don't go taking pictures of me looking weird." I said.

At this, he laughed even more.

Harry stayed in that aisle for a long time after that, and we talked. Until, finally, he saw that I was beginning to doze off, the fatigue of the nights before were catching up on me.

"You better get some rest," Harry said as he stood up, taking his camera with him. "It'll be a while before we get there but you guys are going to have your work cut out for you once we do. It's better to get all the rest you can get at this point."

I nodded. "Yeah, I know."

He smiled and placed his hand above mine, "Well then, later, Lauren."

And then he walked further, deeper into the bus. I watched him as he went and as I turned to face forward, I caught a glimpse of Scotty. In that moment, in that short moment, I saw that he was looking at me. I was sure of it.

But, when I turned to look at him, his eyes were closed.

_Could it be that I just imagined it?_

I don't really know.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

So, yeah...I guess this Vegas Round part of the story would take three chapters (at most), just to let you guys know. I thought about just having one chapter, but then an idea struck me and I decided to go with that idea instead.

I'm really thankful and grateful for all the people who have been reading and reviewing this fanfic. Granted, it doesn't have that much reviews compared to my other fics, but, hey...we're only starting and the reviews that I have gotten from this story are helping me write this as well.

I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I will try to update this fic this weekend (provided that I finish with my manuscript and have it sent over to my proofreader for another round of proofreading before it hits the publisher's desk). If not, then the next update would be next week.

I'm really sorry about the delay.

Anyways, that's that.

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	8. What Happens In Vegas, Part Two

**An American Idol Fanfic**

By _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Ahh, I finally managed to update! It has been a hectic month and I had a lot of things to do that, for a moment, I was worried I wouldn't get to update and you guys would have to wait a while longer. Thankfully, I managed to squeeze some time in and finish this chapter.

Once again, I thank you guys for the patience you have with this fanfic, and I hope that you would like this chapter.

This chapter deviates a little bit from what actually happened in Vegas...as I made Dennise a _little_ bit "evil".

**End of Author's Notes**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I _really _don't own American Idol, FOX owns that. I don't own Lauren or Scotty, or any other people mentioned in this fanfic-unless they're my OCs. This story is fictional...sort of.

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><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter Six**

**What Happens In Vegas…**

**Part Two**

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><p>"Lauren!"<p>

I could still hear Scotty calling me, but I still didn't stop. I still didn't look back.

_Why is he following me?_

I wanted to ask him that. I wanted to ask him why he couldn't just leave me alone. But, to ask that question would mean to stop running…and that is something that I can't do. I know that Harry is not far behind Scotty as well, carrying his camera. "The juicy stuff" that's what he had called it.

I won't give him that satisfaction.

I won't let him film me at my lowest.

That's why…I have to keep running. I don't know where I'm going and I'm having a hard time navigating through the corridors with tears on my eyes. I wish I could run to the dressing room where my mom is waiting for me but I was already running to the opposite direction.

"Lauren, come back!" Scotty called again. I could hear that he was already tired from running. I wonder if he's surprised that I could run as fast as I am running now.

I bet they didn't see that coming, that I—Lauren Alaina Suddeth—am a fast runner…much like how I didn't see how things would go back when we first arrived here in Vegas.

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><p>I have never been to Las Vegas before. I mean, why would I be there in the first place? And so, when the bus began to ease up, everyone—including me—were gawking at the scenery before us. The Mirage—that was the place we had been delivered to; the last hurdle before we know who would make it to the live shows.<p>

I looked over at Scotty, who had worn his baseball cap over his head and, like the others, he was also starring at the building before him.

I'm not sure if he noticed me staring (again) or not, but he addressed me and said, "We're here."

"Yeah." I let out a nervous chuckle.

He cocked his head to the side and I could see through his reflection on the mirror that he was studying me. I forced myself not to blush—something that I realized right then was something I had been doing a lot since we met.

"It's going to be alright, you know." He said.

That made me laugh a bit, "How would you know?"

Scotty then shrugged before turning around to face me, "I don't."

I was about to reprimand him for saying something like that when Dennise suddenly jumped at me from behind and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

She was heavy, but I couldn't really say that to her since I was afraid that she would get the wrong idea and that she would get mad at me.

"Enough chit-chat!" She said, grinning. "Come on, let's get down of this bus and get started."

And so, following the others, we get off the bus and were soon ushered inside. Once there, they ushered us inside rehearsal rooms. I wasn't even able to see my mom before the doors of Room Two were closed and we were sent in to meet with our vocal coach.

He was a man with a cleft chin and sideburns. He wore a brown pinstriped suit and a black bowler hat. He introduced himself as Ken Stacey. And boy, was he one strict coach.

I have had my share of coaches. Being a cheerleader back home, you get to meet a variety of them but I have never met a vocal coach in all of my life so, when we came face to face with Mr. Stacey, I didn't really know what to expect.

"So, what are you three going to sing?" He asked, as soon as the introductions were over.

"If I Fell." We all answered in unison.

Mr. Stacey nodded. "Alright. Are you planning on changing the arrangement?"

I looked over at Scotty, unsure of what to say and Scotty looked from me to Dennise. Dennise looked at both of us. I can safely say, right there and then, that none of us have thought about that.

When none of us answered, Mr. Stacey sighed and shook his head. "Well, we can discuss that later. Right now, let me hear you three sing your song choice."

Those words—those simple words that Mr. Stacey said—it was going to be those words that would start a fracture in what I had hoped was a friendship.

Because, the moment that the music began playing, and we were given the cue to sing, and we sang…I knew that this wasn't going to work like how I wanted it.

We weren't even half-way through the song when Mr. Stacey stopped us. There was a frown on his face and as he spoke, it seemed like he didn't know what to say to our performance.

That's why, when he finally spoke, I knew he was sugarcoating his words. "Hmm…we're gonna have to work with those," he paused, "with those harmonies. We'll…we'll fine tune the harmonies."

I had to bite my lip when he said that. I knew my face did not mask the worry that I felt. In a duet or a trio, I knew that harmonies were—are—important.

Once again, we tried singing the song. Once again, Mr. Stacey stopped us just before we could get to the chorus. Over and over again, this cycle repeated itself until I couldn't take it anymore and a tear slid down my eye as I forced myself not to bite on my nails as I sang along with Dennise and Scotty.

Scotty was the first one to notice, the same time that Mr. Stacey did.

"Lauren, are you alright?" Scotty asked.

"Do you need to take a breather?" Mr. Stacey asked at the same time.

I nodded, I didn't think my voice would hold up. I didn't think I could answer them without hiccupping or without my voice cracking.

"Alright, fifteen-minutes break then." Mr. Stacey announced.

As soon as he did, I walked a ways away from Scotty and Dennise. I could feel them looking at me and, when I took a quick glance, I saw the emotion behind those looks. Worry for Scotty, and annoyance from Dennise.

But, I wasn't going to have a chance to step out and take a real breather for Harry was waiting for me, his camera pointed at me, with a question: "Are you feeling pressured, Lauren?"

I wanted to say, "What do you think?", I wanted to sound and be snarky at him…but, I couldn't. And, I couldn't sidestep away from him either, and so I was forced on an interview.

_They're going to try to get as much sappy, heartbreaking, sad, and dramatic moments as they could. They would want to get as many shots of people who were breaking down under the pressure. It's all about the ratings._

I knew that that was true, even as I answered Harry's question. "Everyone knows the Beatles. Everyone loves their songs. And, I don't want to go in there and, like, not impress them with it." I couldn't stop the tears from falling down my eyes, nor could I let them just flow like that.

"That would be, like, the worst part of the world." My voice sounded hoarse, "I don't want to go home. I _can't _go home. This means everything to me."

I took a deep breath as soon as those words escaped my mouth. It was a shaky breath, a weary breath. And, when I exhaled, two words stumbled off of my mouth as I hid my face from the camera—and from Harry's—view: "Oh, God…"

As I was talking with Harry, allowing him to interview me, I could hear Mr. Stacey giving tips to both Scotty and Dennise. I wanted to look back at them, but, at the same time, I was afraid to see the look on Dennise's face again.

Fifteen minutes later, I was back with them; singing the stupid song that we're supposed to perform but can't perfect; feeling the weight of my dream crashing down on me. I would be lying if I said that there wasn't any tension there in that room as the morning turned to afternoon and we knew that time was running out.

Each one of us—not just me, Scotty, and Dennise—were already feeling frustration. It was just a matter of time before the dam, that was keeping those emotions bottled up and making us civilized, would break.

When night finally dawned upon us, we were all ushered out of our respective rooms and into a much larger room, along with the other contestants who looked as worn out as I felt. They told us to be ready to perform our song, and to be judged. They also told us that it wouldn't be Randy, Jennifer, and Steven who would be judging us. They wouldn't be judging us, not yet.

When nine o'clock in the evening came, we were all already seated on the dainty chairs that they have provided for us. And then, in came this man wearing a black baseball cap, a black coat and a black shirt underneath, a pair of jeans, and a pair of leather shoes. He was wearing a pair of glasses, and a white scarf hung around his neck.

They told us who he was. They told us he was Jimmy Iovine—the chairman of Interscope; a person who had worked closely with the Beatle's very own John Lennon.

You could almost smell and taste the anxiety in the room when he entered. All of us were worried of what he was going to say. All of us wanted to be able to please this guy. Because, we all thought that, by pleasing him, we can be assured that the judges would be pleased with our performance as well.

But Mr. Jimmy Iovine wasn't the only one whom we would be singing for that night. He had brought a team of producers with him. And, knowing that, and knowing that we had to have an impromptu performance, really added to the stress that we were already feeling.

Of course, we didn't have time to prepare. We—me, Scotty, and Dennise—were the first ones to face them. I smiled at them, even though I was shaking inside and even though I was beginning to think that, at this point, under all these pressure, there was nothing to smile about.

The moment we started, we already made a mistake and I saw Dennise look at me like it was my fault. Which, for the record, I would like to clear up that it wasn't my fault. I knew when the cue to sing was, and when I heard the cue, I sang. She, on the other hand, hesitated.

It frustrated me that she was making it seem like I was the one who made a mistake. I wanted to call her out for that but, we were performing and I couldn't really stop the performance just for that.

As we were singing, I heard Jimmy said—albeit faintly to the other producers, "This is the wrong song."

I had to close my eyes and focus on singing after that. I didn't want to see the looks, the cringing, from their faces. I just wanted to sing. And sing, I did.

When we were finished singing, Jimmy voiced out his concern—his verdict.

"I believe they have a problem," he said, and the others nodded, "I think you would need to learn a different song," he said.

I felt like I had been punched in the gut with that. My mind was racing as they continued giving us advice, telling us to pick a new song. I heard Jimmy say, "You aren't going to win with that song." And what he said echoed in my mind eve as the other producers spoke.

I could hear Dennise curse under her breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Why don't you listen to other songs?" Jimmy supplied, and all we could do was nod.

As I walked towards the back of the room, I found that Harry was walking along side me. Then he handed me a bottle of water and asked me to sit down. I looked at Dennise who was giving a smile at the camera, as if she wasn't boiling mad inside, and Scotty who had that unreadable expression on his face. I couldn't tell whether he was annoyed, frustrated, sad, angry, or simply indifferent…and that, bothered me as well.

"What are your thoughts, Lauren?" Harry asked. It was another impromptu interview and I saw that Dennise and Scotty were undergoing an interview as well.

_It figures. We crashed and burned in front of all these people…of course, they would want to see and know what we are feeling…what our thoughts are._

"It's just embarrassing mostly to be in front of all those important people and just, like, totally screw up, you know." _Of course, he doesn't know._ I laughed as I thought about how stupid this was and how tired I was…and how we won't be going to sleep any time soon since we're going to go back to the drawing board—back to finding a song, rehearsing it over and over again until we perfected it.

I wanted to cry, right then. I was starting to really be a crybaby. But, I couldn't. I could still hold it up. I could still act tough…at least, that was what I told myself before I left that room.

The moment I did, and I was walking back to our room—back to where Mr. Stacey was—Dennise stopped me, grabbing me by the arm. The way she grabbed me hurt, and I winced and maybe whimpered a little. No one ever did this to me.

"Let go of me, Dennise," I told her as I tried to twist my arm free. "You're hurting me."

She didn't let go. Instead, she held on to my arm harder and she yanked me, dragging me towards a dark hallway and forcing me so that I was looking at her, and what I saw in her eyes…it honestly scared me.

"You are not going to make me fail this." She hissed. "You are not going to drag me out of this competition, Alaina."

"I'm not—" But she wouldn't let me finish.

"You may have them cameramen gawking at you, and let me tell you, I think that's the only reason why you're still here." She paused, I knew she wanted to let those words sink in to me…and it did. I was appalled. I knew that there were people like this in the competition but…how can she insinuate that I made it through not because of my talent but because there were people who were backing me up—people who were a part of this show?

"But you know what, you're nothing in this competition , Lauren Alaina. You're just another stepping stone, another hurdle that's in my way to greatness and I won't let you ruin it for me." She went on as she kept yanking on my arm.

My eyes were beginning to water, not just because of the way she was holding me but also because the words she was saying were really starting to affect me.

"That's right," she said when I began to sob. "Cry, that's the only thing you're ever good at."

And then she let go of me. I took a step back away from her, tears streaming down my eyes as her words echoed and felt like poison. And then, I turned around and ran.

That was when I bumped into Scotty at the intersection. That's when he saw me crying, saw where I had emerged from and, I think, he also saw Dennise who I knew was still glaring daggers at me, mocking me, and thinking all sorts of bad things about me…things that Scotty and the other contestants were probably thinking as well…

And that was when I pushed myself from Scotty, and I saw Harry just emerged from one of the rooms with his camera.

I knew what I had to do then. I had to get away…I had to run.

And run, I did.

#

I found solace in the girl's bathroom. A place that I knew Scotty and Harry would not be able to enter, unless they would want themselves to be thought of as perverted. I made sure to lock the doors before I slumped near the porcelain sinks and the mirrors.

The things that Dennise told me was still echoing in my mind…and it hurt. I tried to cry the pain away, but those words were like poison; they were like a drug that was seeping my strength, weakening me and my resolve in this competition.

_Did everyone really think that I don't have a talent for this? Did they just let me through because they rigged this competition somehow? Were Dennise's words true?_

A thousand questions, a thousand thoughts, swirled in my mind and it drowned me in despair and made me cry even more.

And then, I heard a knock. It was faint at first, before it grew louder. Someone was knocking at the door to the girl's bathroom.

I didn't dare speak a word—not because I didn't want to be found (even though that was among my reasons) but also because I knew my voice would give away that I was crying…hard.

"Lauren, I know you're in there,"

_Scotty?_

"Come on, Lauren," Yes, it was Scotty. "Come out of there. I'm pretty sure that the air in that bathroom isn't fresh…and I'm pretty sure that fresh air is what you need."

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice was really, really hoarse.

"To talk, "came the reply.

"Talk? Are you sure that that's it?" I asked, I knew that the way I was speaking, I was wrapping my words with venom. "Or, do you just want to tell me that I really don't have any talent, and that I should keep in mind that you are also trying to be the 'next big thing' in the music industry and you don't want a weak link to bring you down? Maybe you're going to tell me that I should just give up because I just ended up here thanks to some contest rigging…just like what she said."

"No, I would never say something like that to you," he then paused, "Wait…'she'? Who are you talking about, Lauren?"

"You know who!" I shouted, and suddenly my throat felt sore.

There was a long pause before Scotty spoke again. And when he spoke, he said, "I'm going to get your mom."

And then I heard footsteps, and I knew that he was gone.

And I was by myself again, alone with those haunting words.

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><p>I didn't know how long it took for Scotty to come back. But, when he did, he didn't just bring my mom with him, he also brought a maintenance personnel and Pia Tuscano. What's more, there was also a cameraman—a female one—with them.<p>

It was the maintenance personnel, a burly man in his late 20s, who opened the bathroom for them.

And then I heard my mom say, "Oh, Lauren, honey…" before she went inside the bathroom and hugged me.

I had stopped crying before they came but, when my mom hugged me, I found myself crying once again.

"What happened?" it was Pia who asked.

"I don't know," I heard Scotty say, "She didn't tell me. But, I saw her running away from another female contestant…"

I heard footsteps. Checking through the mirror, I saw Pia enter the bathroom. She then took the door's handle, turned around and said, "We need a little private time, thank you," before she slammed the door to the cameraman's face.

The cameraman didn't say anything, Scotty, however, protested.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Scotty," Pia said as she walked towards me, "Girl's only."

"What happened, Lauren?" My mother asked me as she stroked my hair to try to calm me down.

"Dennise," I choked.

"Dennise?" My mom asked.

"The other girl in your group?" Pia asked, confirming on whether we were talking about the same person or not.

I nodded. Then I told them what happened, from the start of our rehearsal up to that point when Dennise confronted me. I told them everything amidst the sobs. They didn't say anything as I spoke, they just let me tell my story.

"You shouldn't cry over what she says," Pia said as soon as I was finished.

"Pia's right, dear," my mom added, "She just said that to get under your skin."

"How would you know, mom?" I asked.

It wasn't my mother who answered my question, though, it was Pia.

"Because we've heard you sing. You have talent, Lauren," she said. "And, you're real. You don't act like someone you're not."

I looked at Pia, who smiled at me, and then at my mom who nodded in agreement to what Pia said.

"Why are you being nice to me? Why are you helping me?" The question came out as barely a whisper, yet it was enough for Pia to hear.

It didn't take long for Pia to answer, however, "Why shouldn't I?"

I was about to say something. Enumerate a list of reasons why, all of which revolved around the fact that we were competing for the same thing. But, I wasn't able to say anything, since, once again, a knock sounded from the door.

"Are you guys done?" I heard Scotty ask. "They're calling for everyone down at the entrance hall. They say we're going to watch _Cirque du Soleil_."

Pia stood up, dusted her skirt. My mom followed as she helped me up.

"We better go," Pia told me.

"I don't want to," I said. I remember sounding like a little kid back then.

"Nope, we're going," Pia said as she took my hand and dragged me from my mother who didn't even bother to stop her. "You need to have fun, to relax…and they're giving us that. Besides, you have to show Dennise that you're stronger than you look, and that she shouldn't be underestimating you."

I looked over at my mother, hoping that she would tell Pia that I was better off resting at my room. But, she didn't say that, instead, she said, "Pia's right. But, you have to do something about those puffy eyes of yours."

Pia nodded, and that's when she and my mom started helping me freshen up before we opened the door and left the bathroom.

Outside, I saw that the cameraman and the maintenance personnel was no longer around. Only Scotty was left.

He gave me a little smile, before he looked at Pia and asked, "Now what?"

"Now we have fun," was Pia's answer.

And that was how I found myself sitting beside Pia, watching the _Cirque du Soleil_ perform, and having fun.

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><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>

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><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

And there you have it. The second part of the three-part Las Vegas round in the competition. I always saw Pia as an older-sister figure for Scotty and Lauren, hence her appearance and her role in this chapter.

Hmm...what else?

I can't really think of anything else to say apart to keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter and to review this story! XD

Please tell me if I made a mistake somewhere (grammar, whatever), my keyboard's still acting like a retarded keyboard so I may have misspelled some words here and there. I'm also thinking about finding a BETA-reader for this fic. So, if anyone's interested, PM me.

Anyways, that's that.

What do you guys think? Comments? Criticisms? Don't forget to click that Review button!

Until the next chapter!

Dream on; Fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


	9. What Happens In Vegas, Part Three

**An American Idol Fanfic**

**By** _Sakura Martinez_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Ah, it has been a while since I last updated this fanfic! So sorry about that. I lost my USB drive where I had stored this story and had to rewrite _everything_ from scratch…which is why I'm not sure how well I did this time around.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter that closes off the Vegas Round. I'm not going to leave this fanfic unfinished. It might take a while but I am going to finish it.

**End of Author's Notes**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer<strong>:

I don't own American Idol. Never have, never will…unless by some cosmic miracle I do end up owning it one day. When that day comes, I'll let you guys know.

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><p><strong>A McLaina Story<strong>

**Chapter Seven**

**What Happens In Vegas…**

**Part Three**

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><p>Before our performance, we made little adjustments with our choreography on stage, trying to perfect what little we have and hoping that it would be enough. We weren't the only ones there, however. Other groups were also doing their last minute preparations before the judges come in and before we would have to perform.<p>

Then the judges came in, talking amongst themselves and I wonder if they were already debating on how to cut down our group; if they already have their favorites and are silently rooting for them. I hoped that I was one of those favorites…

The first to actually perform were James and Stefano. You could feel the nervousness oozing out of them. It was either that or the excitement. Maybe it was both. They were anxious to sing and, I thought that it would be a good idea to watch them, and watch them I did.

They were good and I was among the people who applauded them after their performance. The judges enjoyed—if not loved—their performance which only caused another round of applause. Pia and Karen were the ones who sang next. I knew what kind of powerhouse vocals those two have and, knowing how good a signer Pia was, I knew that they would do a good job. Their voices harmonized well with each other and it was a given that the judges _absolutely_ loved them.

Then it was Jacob, Haley, and Naima's turn. Their bluesy song gained the judges' approval as well. A couple more duos ad trios went after them and most—if not all—of them were pretty good, at least, in my opinion. Even though we were all competitors, I couldn't help but admire how great they were. It made me nervous but at the same time it made me want to push myself even more. I wanted to be at an equal footing with them, if not better.

As our turn neared, we were asked to move to the backstage where we can watch the performances through a small monitor. As the clock winds down I began to grow more and more nervous.

My heart was pounding in my chest, making me feel like I have asthma and that I'm about to faint with the lack of oxygen. To say that I feel as though I have butterflies in my stomach would be akin to saying that Paris is in France. It would also be an understatement. It doesn't feel like butterflies, more like elephants—_rampaging_ elephants.

"Deep breaths, Lauren," Scotty whispered in my ear, his breath tickling me and the closeness between us sending a different kind of feeling, making me shiver.

Instead of showing just how embarrassed I was, I followed his instruction taking one deep breath before exhaling, repeating the process like my life depended on it.

On several levels, I suppose you can say that. After all, it was another make-or-break situation. A situation where nerves can play a big role on whether you make it or break it in this competition.

"That's it," Scotty cooed yet again. "Just keep doing that. You're going to be fine. "

"Hah, that's easy for you to say, Scotty," I managed to say, my voice slightly shaking, my grip on the microphone tightening.

Scotty chuckled, "Trust me. We'll be fine."

Before I could ask him how he could be so sure about it, Denise had arrived, followed by Harry, a camera trailed after her. Which also sort of explains the smile on her face and the look that said she's harmless and that she wouldn't argue, or fight, or cause any kind of problems…The look that made you think that she wouldn't hurt a fly. Of course, Scotty and I (not to mention my mom and Pia) knows better than to be fooled by that.

"So, guys, care to tell the world what you are all feeling right now?" Harry asked, positioning his camera so that he could capture all three of us.

Scotty looked at me and nodded.

I didn't bother to look at Denise before I answered, "We had a very emotional week." I looked at Scotty who smiled as I continued, "We've been up and down, up and down."

As I said those words, Scotty made the motions with his hand, along with a sound of a high-pitched (sort of) air passing through his lips. It wasn't really a whistle. The sound, I mean. Denise, on the other hand, simply looked at me. I could see that she didn't like me being at the center of the spotlight again, but she was controlling her emotions, not wanting the camera to catch anything nasty from her. She needed to suck it up if she wanted to be America's darling.

Harry nodded. When I stopped talking, Denise went in with her own answer.

"It was a great week. Sure it was also filled with emotional roller coasters but, when we signed up and auditioned, I think we all knew that we were bound to come across those," She smiled at Harry and the camera.

"Feeling confident then?" Harry asked.

Denise nodded, "Of course."

_At least one of us has an unwavering confidence on herself. I just hope we don't crash and burn._

I looked at Scotty who just shrugged, as if to tell me to let her have her fun. As much as I wanted the whole world to know what Denise did, I really wasn't the kind of person who was up for confrontation and the repercussions of it, especially not on television. Like Denise, I also knew what would happen if I chose to take revenge on what she has done.

And then, it was our turn. With one final "Good luck" from Ryan, we made our way to the phone booth, waited for the band to play and then Scotty started off with our song as we exited the booth one by one.

We tried to make the song fun and new. I suppose we all hoped that the judges would love it: the song choice, the harmony, the choreography. For a moment we thought we did great. And then it was judging time.

"Is this me?" laughing, Jennifer had asked Randy as Steven continued applauding.

"Yeah," Randy nodded.

And then Jennifer made a small outburst, "No!"

Chuckling Randy repeated his answer, "Yeah, yeah."

Taking a deep breath, Jennifer then began, "Okay. It sounded good. The song is a difficult song, I think, especially for three people to kind of trade off all the parts. You sounded good when you did some of the harmonies."

"Ah," There was a slight pause as she looked at her notes and then she began judging us individually, starting from Denise. "Denise you weren't as strong as you always are." To Scotty she said, "Scotty, I love your voice. It was nice to hear you go the octave up."

"I wanted to show something a little bit different," said Scotty as he tried to sound less nervous than he actually was, trying to keep the shakiness of his voice after singing away from the ears of the judges.

"Yeah," Jennifer agreed with him. "I prefer you…where you lived."

At that point, as the moment drew near that Jennifer was going to tell me what was wrong or right with my performance, my heart was galloping faster than a race horse. It was then that Scotty decided to do something that made me forget my nervousness, even for a second.

"Right down here," he said with his baritone voice and with that expression like he was actually digging for his voice way down deep.

"Yes," Jennifer said, drawing out the 'ye' part.

With a final "Um" from Jennifer, it was finally my turn.

"Lauren," she starts off, "Same thing. You're…you're an amazing singer, and again, I just don't feel like this song did anything for…any of you." And then she laughed.

Steven then took it as his cue to speak, and I suppose, defend us.

"That's exactly it," he said, "the song didn't fit you guys."

"They tried." Jennifer said quickly.

"Yeah, they tried." Steven agreed, not really arguing with Jennifer but sounding as though he was being defensive about it that I couldn't help but bit my lip to keep myself from laughing out loud. "It's like a Marx Brothers put out a fire-thing." There was a slight pause where Randy and Jennifer laughed before Steven went on to say, "But—but all in all, nice try."

"Yeah," Jennifer once again agreed to which Scotty thanked them.

Then Randy had his turn, "It was definitely and entertaining. It's just not…uh…the singer's dream this song, is it?"

We all shook our heads. There was no point in trying to defend our performance. Even I agreed that it wasn't the _best_ song to sing.

I suppose they saw the deflated looks in our faces, even though we did try our best to hide it. Because then Jennifer and Randy both said, "We'll take that into consideration."

Scotty thanked them for us once again before we all exited the stage in the middle of the kind applause from those who were watching us.

I tried my best not to faint as we walked off the stage. I think I knew, at that moment, that we were all in dangerous footing. A bad song choice usually does end up with the person who sang the song going home.

As the Harry and his camera awaited us at the backstage, Denise quickly hooked her arms around my and Scotty's arm. I didn't wonder, at that point, if it was all an act and I didn't really care. We may not admit it to one another, but all of us were afraid of being cut because of that performance and all of us needed a little support to keep us from breaking down from our risk not paying off.

Before long, Denise left us to join some people she had bonded with, leaving me with Scotty.

"Do you still think that went well?" I asked in a whisper, trying to keep my voice and my breathing leveled.

Scotty shrugged, not looking at me and looking flushed. "Maybe. I don't really know how much we killed our chances with that. But, I'd like to think that, under the circumstance, we did our best."

His answer made me laugh a little and shake my head. I suppose it surprised him, because he quickly turned to me, a confused expression on his face as he asked, "What? Did I say something funny?"

"Not really," I answered, letting a smile tug my lips upward. "I would have hit you in the head if you lied to me and told me that the judges didn't know what they were talking about and that our performance went really well."

Now it was Scotty's turn to laugh and, for a moment, we both forgot what kind of danger we were in. When our laughter subsided, and our faces were as red as when the judges had begun pointing out what was wrong with our performance, Scotty asked, "So, shall we go ahead and see how the others are fairing?"

To which I agreed that we should and, together, Scotty and I made our way back to watch how the others would perform their Beatles song.

As it turned out, we weren't the only ones whose risks did _not_ pay off. Many duos and trios also felt flat, well, as flat as your performance could have gone compared to the others who had gone before us.

When the performances are finally over, all of us were asked backstage once again. There they prepped us up and positioned us underneath the stage's trap door. Everyone was busy trying to get the atmosphere they wanted the show to be recorded in. All the effects that they could think of, to make it more dramatic than it already was—like the fog and the lighting—were set as all sixty-one of us did our own little thing to keep ourselves from passing out, or barfing under the pressure.

I had my own share of competitions, and heart-pounding moments but nothing, so far, had compared to that night. It was tough, and the somber attitude that we had all found ourselves in didn't help us one bit in calming down our nerves.

As the platform we were on was slowly being elevated, my thoughts once again drifted off.

I felt that my chances were slim and I prayed, just as I could hear Scotty murmuring and silently praying, that the judges had really done what they had promised to do, taking into account that we could do more than what we had just showed during our performance.

The thought of being booted out of the competition loomed in my mind and I couldn't get rid of it.

Before long, we found ourselves face-to-face with the judges. I felt sweaty and clammy and cold all over. And I wondered how many of those in that room with me feel as confident as they looked.

"Hello, hello, hello," Randy greeted us. The usual jovial tone in his voice was absent, further proof that this was going to be tough—not only for them but for us. "So, listen. You guys should give yourselves a round of applause you did really well," We actually did, even Jennifer and Steven. Gave a round of applause, I mean. "But, as you know, in this point of the competition, we _definitely_ need to make some cuts."

The applause died at that and the mood in the room darkened. I mean, you can't actually expect us to be happy after hearing something like that. No one wants to be among those people who will be taken off the competition, not after getting this far…

"So, when we call your name…step forward," And that was the cue for the actual start of the elimination for that round.

Randy then took hold of one end of a foot-long, black, rectangular cardboard and Jennifer helped him flipped it over. We were all anxious to hear who among us would be called first. Some of us had their heads bowed down. Others were putting their weight alternating from one foot to the other. Others, like me, were doing our breathings, trying to stay focused enough to know when our name had been called.

"Thia, step forward." Randy called and Thia did just that, running her hand, nervously, on her hair. "Scotty, step forward." Scotty also did what he was told, not actually having a choice.

"Good luck," I whispered to Scotty as I made room for him to move from behind me. I then silently prayed that he would make it true as he took Thia's hand and held it in camaraderie.

"Jermaine Dorsy, step forward. Ashton, step forward. Robbie, step forward." Randy went on.

All three of them followed suit. Jermaine chose not to hold on to Thia's hand as he took the position to Thia's left. Ashton took the spot next to Scotty while Robbie stood next to Jermaie.

I was taking a deep breath and exhaling it through my mouth, feeling doubly nervous now that Scotty was about to be judged, when Randy called another name to step forward. Mine.

I was _not_ expecting my name to be called too soon and it took another contestant to nudge me and whisper that I have been called for me to actually move, zombie-like, trying to keep my composure, next to Ashton.

My hand was on my mouth as one thought kept on replaying itself on my mind: _Oh, my God…Oh, my God…Oh, my God._

As soon as I was on my spot next to Ashton, Randy went on.

"We got so much amazing talents this year." He paused, then motioned to Jennifer and himself as he went on, "This is really, _really_ tough for us. It's the hardest thing to do and it's getting harder _every _time."

Another pause. A pause filled with silence that you can almost hear a needle hit the floor—if someone did try to drop a needle.

"So, you front seven," I was beside myself in nervousness and anxiety. All the while thinking: _I'm not gonna make it. What if I don't make it? Please, let me through to the next round…_

My hand was on top of my hair, keeping it in place. I was getting teary eyed and I knew that if the judges don't tell us their verdict soon, I will not be able to keep the tears from spilling—regardless if I make it through or not.

As Randy made another pause—a bit longer than the one he had made before, which I knew was for dramatic effect—I couldn't help but wish that he would just tell us, get it on, spare us from the mini-heart attacks that we were all experiencing at that moment.

Whether Randy actually heard my thoughts pleading him or not, he finally completed his sentence, "Congratulations! You're through!"

A round of applause was given to us and each of us let out the relief that we all felt in our own ways. I, being surprised and grateful and optimistic and hopeful again, ended up backing down a bit, my hands on my head as I cried tears of joy and relief. Ashton had her hands on her knees. Thia clapped her hands and looked around us in disbelief—an emotion I shared with her, after all, who would have thought that none of us were going to get cut. Robbie and Jermaine jumped up and down, then grinned and joined in with the applause. Scotty embraced another contestant, though I failed to recognize who what with the emotions rushing through me.

I am a crybaby. Having cried the night before and almost being on the verge of tears throughout the day, I finally let it out. Although I wasn't sobbing that loud. Nope. That would be a bit embarrassing if that was the case.

There was a lot of hugging and crying and whoops of joy as we made our way down the stage.

Once at the backstage, I made my way to find my mom. My only company being Harry and his camera. Reservations of being caught on camera crying…again…were no longer of concern to me. I made it through. Miraculously I did. And all I wanted was to share the moment with my mother.

"Ready to celebrate, Lauren?" Harry had asked me.

All I could do as I shook the tension from my left hand, dropping it to my side, was answer, "I want to find my mom," before crying some more.

Hey, you can't blame a girl for crying after that. Heck, I doubt you can blame any of us after _that_.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Lauren, stop crying." My mom said, smiling at me. Her face beaming with pride.<p>

"I can't," I told her, my voice hoarse. "I thought I was going home when they made me step forward. I thought—"

I couldn't even finish my sentence. The tears wouldn't stop falling and my mom had to help me, make me still look pretty and presentable in-front of Harry and the camera. We didn't know if they were actually going to air the footage they were taking of us, but, either way, it was always a good idea to look your best…eve when you're crying…a lot.

I didn't know who else made it or where Scotty had gone. I didn't watch the cuts any more. I was tired and drained and all I wanted to do was rest up and sleep and get ready for the round that was going to come next: our solo performance—the one that was going to decide if we make it to the Top 24, or not.

* * *

><p><strong>Post Author's Notes:<strong>

And that concludes the Vegas Round. The next chapter will be all about the LA performance that determined the Top 24 as well as the announcement of the Top 24. I'm going to try and update again before Friday, provided that I don't get too swamped with work, get addicted again on playing video games, or too focused on my other on-going fanfics.

If you guys got any questions, or if you want to tell me what you think about the story so far (pretty please?), just click on the Review this story link and send me a review. I'll try to answer them and post the answer on my blog. If you find some inconsistencies with this chapter, or if you find any errors, please let me know too so that I can fix 'em.

Also, I am still looking for that Beta-Reader for this story.

Until the next update, dream on; fly on!

**End of Post Author's Notes**


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